Blank Page
by McFiddleStan
Summary: Five months after Loki revealed his true feelings for Tony, one night in his dorm, the young genius left their college with no explanation. Ten years later - after Afghanistan and his parents' deaths - Tony shows up on Loki's doorstep hoping for a chance to explain. And apologize. / Continuation from What Are Friends For? and Called It. / FrostIron, Modern AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Another fic that was a long time in-the-making (apologies). It's a continuation of the story between Tony and Loki that started in What Are Friends For? and continued in Called It, both written for generationloki. This was not given as a prompt; it's simply the next step they decided to take in my warped head.**

 **I wrote this one a little differently than anything I've written before. There are (as of my first draft) 15 chapters; each chapter will have two parts: the first from Tony's POV, the second from Loki's. So there will be overlap, but differing thoughts/opinions/interpretations, etc.**

 **I hope the format is easy enough to follow. Enjoy. :)**

 **xoxo, La**

* * *

Tony studied the screen of his brand new Starkphone, reading the address he'd had Jarvis dig up months ago one more time. He was standing on a busy corner in the middle of a bustling Hollywood. Cars flew by, heading for souvenir shops, fancy restaurants, theatres and clubs. The sun was lowering in the west, and neon lights were beginning to blink to life. The city street was bustling with summer tourists, and women ranging from fifteen to fifty trying to get anyone's attention—including the genius'.

He found it surprising, only because he still had the look of a man who had just crawled out of a cave hours ago. In reality, it had been longer. They were wasting their time; his eyes were only focused on the apartment complex across the street, slightly hidden by a small liquor store next door to a tattoo parlor.

Taking a deep breath, Tony stuffed the phone into his pocket and started across the street. The address and apartment number of the place he was looking for had been imprinted on his brain since the moment he'd read them, and he had no problem getting inside the complex and finding the unit he was looking for on the first floor, tucked into a corner of the gated off area.

He was a little surprised, if he was honest. The whole neighborhood seemed a little…seedy, for his old friend. His jaw clenched at the word. It was altogether too familiar and yet not intimate enough to describe their particular relationship.

"Jesus," he muttered to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face, at his own thoughts. Now was the not the time. He could hear some muffled music coming from inside the apartment as he approached, and steeling himself for the face-to-face he'd both dreaded and anticipated for nearly ten long years, he pressed his finger to the doorbell.

Everything inside and out seemed to clench as Tony waited. The music was lowered to a low hum, a few locks clicked…and then there he was.

* * *

Loki was relieved that the apartment was empty when he stepped in and found it was dark and quiet. It had been a shit day at the theatre. Everyone was on edge as one show was coming to an end, and a miscommunication had the new show's people showing up a day early. Home now, it made him weary to think of the work he still had ahead of him.

He relaxed himself first with a hot shower and dressed comfortably in loose black pants and a long-sleeved green shirt. After, he whipped up a quick meal of fettuccine pasta in Alfredo sauce with chicken and broccoli, leaving enough for his roommate, and some extra. With a cup of tea in hand, Loki settled in the living room to work on scheduling the staff at the theatre where he worked in the technical crew.

He had only been working on the schedule for an hour or so when the doorbell sounded. Taking a quick sip of his tea, he rose to lower the soundtrack of the musical he'd just spent five weeks working on, playing on the stereo, and crossed the room to pull open the door.

And suddenly everything came to a crashing halt. If there had been an actual record playing, it would have scratched to a stop in that instant.

For a moment he thought he was seeing things and just as Tony's lips parted to speak, Loki shut the door in his face. A hand flew up to press against his mouth, muffling his shocked gasp; the other curled into his shirt at his chest, where his heart was racing.

A flood of mixed emotions had both his jaw clenching and his eyes tearing. A soft knock sounded, followed by his name spoken through a gruff, scratchy voice. Collecting himself, Loki opened the door once more.

Seeing that face again, after all this time, was overwhelming, and before he could help himself, Loki was stepping forward and gathering Tony close in a tight embrace. Headlines flashed through his mind, behind his eyes as he hugged the man close; voices of faceless reporters echoed in his ear, and for the briefest of moments, he let himself be happy Tony was alive and standing on his doorstep. His hand sprawled out against the back of the genius' head, then his fingers were curling into the dark hair. He inhaled a shaky breath and before he completely released it, he had stepped back, just as quickly as he'd stepped forward.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered angrily between his teeth.

Tony looked as befuddled as Loki felt and jerked a shoulder. "I wanted to see you…?"

"Are you not sure?" His voice had returned, sharp and indignant.

"No—yes! I, yeah, I wanted to…apologize."

Loki's head tipped to the side, and a part of him felt he won some small victory when Tony flinched. Then he remembered what the man had just been through. And softened. Slightly. "After all these years? _Now_ you want to apologize?"

"Well. I didn't get a chance to—"

"You left." He crossed his arms now, the emotions of a broken-hearted nineteen year old seeping back into his twenty-eight year old self. "You had every chance."

In shame, Loki hoped, Tony lowered his eyes and cleared his throat. "Can I come in? Please? Just for a minute. Or two."

Loki stared, unmoving, unsure. Breathing a soft sigh, he gave an imperceptible nod, shoved the door open further, turned on his heel, and headed back into the living room.

* * *

 **2nd A/N: As usual, any comments, questions, observations, etc., are welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so happy/relieved/excited, etc., that the response, so far, has been overwhelmingly positive for this. I've been struggling with writer's block and a lack of confidence in my writing lately (even as I worked on this and other projects), so the comments I've gotten have been quite reassuring. I hope to keep you interested for the whole 15 chaps. Anyhoo, thank you so much and enjoy. :)**

 **xoxo, La**

* * *

Tony barely had a chance to take in Loki's appearance before he was being held tightly against him. For a moment, time slowed, and like he was a hopelessly in love woman in one of those chick flicks—that he totally _never_ watched—he slowly exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Then, as if someone snapped their fingers and reminded Loki just whom he was hugging, he pulled away and Tony was left cold again. He was pissed, that much was obvious to Tony. And he didn't blame him one bit. What Tony had done was despicable.

Thrown off by the hug, he had actually forgotten why he was there for a fleeting moment. Not even a minute in Loki's presence and the man was already pissed off with him. _What did you expect?_

"Can I come in? Please. Just for a minute. Or two."

Behind his back, Tony crossed his fingers, silently praying to all the deities he could think of—none of whom he believed in—that Loki would give him a small break and allow him in. He even hoped his ordeal might play a part in Loki's decision. _Pathetic_.

He hesitated briefly as Loki walked away, but took it as an invitation that he didn't slam the door in his face. Again. Stepping over the threshold, he closed the door behind him, and took a glance around. The living room, furnished with a black entertainment center, two black couches, and a wine-red throw rug under the black coffee table, was spacious and immaculate, considering what the outside looked like. A fresh bouquet of red roses sat in the center of the dining table just behind the sofa, and ahead of him, Tony spotted a kitchen, and beyond that, a dark hallway, but he couldn't see exactly how many bedrooms there may have been.

"Nice place."

"Get on with it, Anth—Stark." Loki had lowered to the longer sofa and picked up a number two pencil. The way he twirled it told Tony he was as anxious as he. "I have work to do. As you can see." He swept his hand over the table before him, covered in papers. It made Tony's chest hurt the way Loki corrected himself, and hanging his head he crossed the room to sit in the adjacent, slimmer sofa.

"Um. I owe you an explanation," he started softly.

"No."

The single word had Tony's head lifting, brow furrowed. "What?"

Loki pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair, still long and past his shoulders, shoving it away from his face, and shook his head. "You owed me an explanation nine years ago."

Tony's chest felt hollow; which was almost funny considering the piece of metal he now had lodged in the center of it, keeping him alive.

"Now…" Loki made a disgusted face. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Loki, just let me—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses!"

Tony stared at Loki, a little taken aback, watching the man practically have a silent conversation with himself, forcing himself to calm down and keep it together. He swallowed when Loki pressed his hands to his face and pretended not to notice when he swiped at his damp eyes. Loki breathed out sharply, almost scoffing and tossed down his pencil. Tony didn't move, but to glance up, just as the raven-haired man lifted his left arm to push his hair back again, and caught a flash of something on the side of Loki's hand before he crossed his arms. Was that…a tattoo?

Tony sat up a little straighter, lips parting to speak, but Loki beat him to it.

"How did you even find me?"

"…Oh. Uh. Well, I…"

They both tensed and looked up at the door when voices were heard behind it and a key turned in the lock. Unnecessarily, since Loki hadn't locked it. Tony panicked; he hadn't even thought that Loki might have a roommate. Or worse—considering those roses he shot a look at now—a live-in boyfriend.

 _Shit, shit, shit!_

As had become his habit, he reached up to tug at his shirts, making sure the arc reactor was sufficiently hidden, and prepared to meet someone new. Instead, though, two very familiar faces walked in, and Tony's jaw nearly hit the floor.

* * *

Mother had always warned him that his temper would get the better of him.

Loki clenched his fists, his teeth, and anything else he could clench, thinking he must have been crazy to let Tony into his home. Despite whatever he'd been through recently—which Loki had kept tabs on religiously, because he was scared to death the one person on this planet that he had once loved would perish before he got any answers to the numerous questions he had—a part of him felt Tony didn't really deserve this chance. What he'd done had screwed Loki up for a long time afterward. It had hurt worse than Thanos' fists or Laufey's words ever had. And Loki's predilection for risky behavior increased for awhile, until a surprising presence saved him. Literally. He hadn't been this frustrated in so long. And just when he was ready to tell Tony to get out, his roommate's familiar voice and deep chuckle were coming from the other side of the door.

Before he could think of any way to explain why Tony Stark was sitting in their living room, the door pushed open and a laughing Bucky and smiling Steve stepped inside.

"Whoa…" Bucky noticed Tony first and stumbled to a stop, with Steve crashing into him, mumbling a shocked _oh my god_ under his breath, then immediately they both looked to Loki. He covered his face with both hands now. He only peeked over his fingers when Steve spoke up again. "Tony?" At the awkward throat-clearing, Loki dropped his hands to see Tony rising and holding out his hand to them both. And rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

"Steve. Bucky." Both men politely shook his hand, shooting questioning glances Loki's way the whole time.

"Uh, good to see you in one piece."

"Buck," Steve jabbed his elbow into his side.

"What? What am I supposed to say?" Bucky almost whispered. Almost.

"It's fine," Tony supplied, stepping back to lower to his seat again.

"We volunteered, you know?" Everyone looked at Steve expectantly. Bucky was strongly trying to convey a message of _shut the hell up_ with just his eyes, Loki could tell. "To search for you, I mean. We...well, _I'm_ still in the army," he explained with a soft grin. "On leave, actually, right now. Bucky got out. But…anyway. They didn't need us…then."

Tony nodded, politely but strained, and clasped his hands together. "Thanks."

"James." Bucky and Steve looked at Loki, who gave a subtle jerk of his head as he rubbed at his temple. Smoothing a hand over his pulled back hair, tied neatly into a bun at the back of his head, Bucky answered him with a firm nod.

"Right. Well. Good seeing you, Stark." Bucky clamped a hand on his shoulder, gave it a shake, slipped the other in Steve's, and started to lead him down the hallway.

"Take care, Tony." Steve waved, glanced back at Loki, and nearly tripped when Bucky gave his arm a sharp tug and pulled him into the closest bedroom in the hallway. Moments later, loud music began to blast, muffled by the closed door. Loki wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of what had become of his quiet evening, settled instead on rubbing at his tired eyes.

"Since when are you and Rogers friends?"

Black strands went flying as Loki flipped his head up, eyes narrowing incredulously at Tony, at the derisiveness in his tone. "Oh, just since he saved my life, actually."

The almost accusatory glare on Tony's face vanished. "…What?"

"Hm. Didn't hear about that at M.I.T.?" Not giving Tony a chance to respond, Loki snatched up his forgotten food and now cold cup of tea and headed into the kitchen. He completely expected Tony would follow, and the genius, for once, did not disappoint.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **Just a quick NOTE: I had to make a small edit to Chapter 1. When I first started writing this, the time of year changed from Christmastime to summer and all over. I missed, in my extensive re-reads, a particular word in the very first paragraph. It says "summer" tourists, but, it's actually winter. You'll discover exactly what time of year it is (I'd think the fresh bouquet of roses would tip some off) in later chapters.  
**

 **I'm enjoying the comments! Any extensive reviews, suggestions, critiques, even complaints, etc., are also welcome.**

 **xoxo, La**

* * *

Concerned about a new boyfriend of Loki's, and here, Tony was confronted by an old one. He didn't know what he was surprised by more: that Bucky and Steve were still a couple after all these years, or that Bucky's muscular arms, as far as he could tell, bared up to his elbows as they were even in the heart of winter, were covered with tattoos. And the question running rampant in his mind: was one or the other—or, Christ help him, both—Loki's roommate?

He didn't think the night could get any more uncomfortable. Until Rogers opened his mouth. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? _Thanks for nothing? Better luck next time?_

That Tony was discovered at all in that godforsaken desert was a miracle in and of itself.

Time had certainly not changed Tony's feelings about his former roommate. After that first rough semester, things between them hadn't improved any; and the constant presence of former boyfriends Bucky and Loki mulling around only added to the attention. Loki and Steve had disliked each other on their first meeting. So how did they become such good friends? Because it was killing him to know, he asked Loki the question burning a hole on his tongue, once Steve and Bucky had exited. And received an answer he wasn't at all prepared for. His breath caught in his throat, lodged right next to his heart. What the hell did that _mean_?

As always with Loki, he couldn't tell when he was being facetious or completely honest. Of course, Tony hadn't heard anything about Loki. Everyone stopped talking to him when he left for M.I.T. Except Pepper and Rhodey. And neither of them were very close to Loki and his group of friends. He knew coming to see Loki was going to be difficult; that getting to say what he wanted to say—what he promised himself he would say if he ever got out of that damned cave—would be no easy feat. But Loki had to know. Even if it didn't fix anything, he had to know.

So, like a little puppy, Tony was jumping to his feet and following Loki into the kitchen, making sure he kept a respectable distance, but close enough that he could speak in a lowered voice.

"What happened, Loki? What do you mean Rogers saved your life? How?"

Loki barely spared him a glance as he rinsed his mug and utensils. Tony huffed irritably. Clearly, Loki still knew how to get under his skin.

"Fine. Don't tell me. I'll do a search. Just like I did to find out where you were." He pulled out his phone from his pocket, moving to a corner of the kitchen away from Loki. In his peripheral vision, he saw Loki spin around. "Jarvis. Do a search for medical records, arrests, anything on Loki Lau—hey!"

Tony watched in shock as Loki tore his phone from his hands and threw it against the nearest wall. It now lay in pieces on the floor.

"That was a new phone, damn it!" He moved toward the mess, already calculating from the pieces scattered around if he could put it back together on his own, and found himself violently shoved into the wall instead. "Loki!"

"You do not get to show up on my doorstep after a damned decade, demanding answers from _me_ , Anthony Stark."

"I just—" Another hard shove had Tony pressed harder against the wall, Loki's hands curled in his shirt. His face was close enough now that Tony could see the pain, the anger, everything, in those big green eyes. The creak of Bucky's bedroom door opening just enough to peek out drew Tony's attention. Bucky seemed to quickly assess the situation and closed the door again.

" _You_ left."

Tony's eyes darted back to Loki, his teeth clicked as his lips closed shut. The pressure on the skin around the arc reactor was hurting, but he wasn't about to interrupt again. And it couldn't possibly compare to what Loki was feeling, if his trembling lips meant anything.

"You forfeited any right to knowing anything about me or my life after you _chose_ to leave it."

He was stuck in his spot, unable to move, afraid to speak, but then the pressure started to ebb away as Loki slowly released him and stepped back. Something was wrong. Loki was staring at his shaking hands, gasping softly—almost in shock. Tony nearly reached for him but thought better of it, and instead spoke his name softly.

Dark green flashed up to him, and Tony pressed himself against the wall.

"Get out."

* * *

What was he thinking baiting Tony like this?

He hadn't planned to share anything with his former lover. Especially not the story of how Tony's one-time roommate and he had put their differences aside and became rather good friends. Loki and Bucky had reconnected, as friends, not long after Tony disappeared from campus. Bucky and Steve had been dating for almost six months by then, and both had surprised Loki with their sympathy for him. The former boyfriends found they made better friends than romantic partners.

Thinking about _that_ night, however, when Steve had shown up at exactly the right time, in exactly the right place, still occasionally gave Loki nightmares, and had him waking up in a cold sweat more than a few times. Laufey had had a field day with that incident, he remembered bitterly. The embarrassment Loki had felt, the stupidity for letting Tony's sudden departure nearly kill him, and it sweeping across the campus like a wildfire, had made Loki absolutely livid. But it was Steve and Bucky who helped him through it.

Would he really stand in his kitchen and tell Tony all of that? What right did he have to know now?

Incredulous at Tony's claim, he whipped around when the genius pulled out his phone. He had heard about those StarkPhones; technologically advanced, superior to everything else on the market from the iPhone to the Galaxy. His face crumpled into a dark glower as Tony spoke into it.

A deep-rooted, indignant rage filled Loki, and without thinking, he snatched the contraption from Tony's hands and flung it away. The sound of it breaking was extremely satisfying. His rage flamed hotter when Tony's only response was to reach for the damned phone. A growl rumbled in his throat, and in the next seconds he had Tony backed against the wall, his vision blurred red at the edges. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, which frustrated him further, spittle flying as he berated Tony.

And then he froze.

He recognized the look of fear on Tony's face and his mind flashed back to the numerous arguments and physical altercations between he and Laufey through his teen years. Then, later, when he was with Thanos. Horrified, Loki yanked his hands back and stared at them.

 _Monster. Just like your father_ , that annoying little voice in the back of his head whispered.

"Loki…"

The sound of Tony's voice shot him back into reality. "Get out," he snapped before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room. Exhausted, irritated, and startled by the revelation that he was exactly like his father, Loki moved slowly to the sofa, dropping to it like a stone, and buried his face in his hands.

"Loki."

He didn't move. "Did I not tell you to leave?"

"And when have I ever actually listened to you when you gave me an order?"

A sharp sigh, and Loki moved his hands to rub at his temples. "In case it managed to escape your obviously rapt attention, I am not in a terribly entertaining mood."

"Yeah, I noticed." Tony tried a smile when Loki shot him another death stare. "Look, I came here to say something. And I'm not leaving until I say it."

Silently, Loki reached for a small wooden box on the lower half of the coffee table. Opening it up, he pulled out a freshly rolled cigarette, placing it between his lips as he pulled open a latch on the side and retrieved a lighter. "Then say it and do what you do best," he mumbled around the cigarette. He lit it, took a quick puff, and lifted his head, exhaling a long plume of smoke as he settled his eyes on Tony. "Disappear."

Tony was giving him an odd look, a mix between confusion and repulsion. "When did you start smoking?"

Deliberately, Loki brought the cigarette to his lips and took an extra long drag, his viridian eyes locked on Tony's the entire time. "Is that really what you—whom I've seen indulge in more addictive substances than tobacco, by the way—waited all these years to say?"

Frowning, and pouting like a petulant little boy, Tony moved closer, swiping at the smoke wafting around him, and lowered hesitantly to the coffee table. "No. I wanted to explain. And apologize."

Still for several moments, Loki moved suddenly to rub at his eye with the heel of his hand holding the cigarette. "Why?" he choked out, keeping his gaze lowered as he bent to pick up Bucky's favored ashtray and set down the still smoldering cigarette.

"Because you deserve one," Tony nearly whispered. "A real one."

"No." He looked up now, eyes red and damp, bottom lip trembling. "Why _bother_?"

Tony's shoulders slumped and he slid a little closer. "Loki, I—"

"You didn't think I was deserving of an explanation then. You didn't even say goodbye. You just...packed your bags and disappeared."

"I know, but—"

"You left _my_ things behind. Every…single…letter, greeting card, t-shirt, every _thing_ that I ever gave you or that happened to collect in your dorm, you just left it there. In a beat-up old box." Loki's entire body was shaking with the tears he was fighting back. Defiantly, he stared at Tony, watching the genius he once believed was the love of his life slowly start to crumble before his eyes.

"I know what I did was awful…," Tony muttered, turning his face away. But Loki wasn't about to let him get off that easy. Surprising even himself, he threw out his arm, shoving his fist to Tony's shoulder, forcing him to look Loki in the eye.

"Is that how little I meant to you? Was I nothing more than another conquest for you? I thought I was, at the very least, your best friend."

Tony breathed out a weak sigh and started to reach for Loki's arm before he could pull back. But Loki cringed away, nearly turning his back to Tony.

"Don't. Just go. I don't want to relive this. It took me a very long time to put you and what you did behind me." He sniffled, swiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "I don't want to see you ever again, Anthony. Leave. Now."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies for the late update. I did post a message on tumblr, but idk if anyone follows me there. The wifi was lost at my house and to limit data usage I had to stay off my phone and computer. Ergo, no update. Anyway, enjoy the update! I'm off to the movies.** **And, a second apology for the semi-short chapter.**

 **-xoxo, La**

 **P.S. Thank you again so much for the love and positive comments. You all are the best.**

* * *

"What the hell just happened?" Tony asked himself quietly as Loki left him alone in the kitchen. He rubbed a hand over his chest, around the arc, and like clockwork, followed Loki into the living room.

It probably wasn't the appropriate time to make jokes, but no one ever accused Tony Stark of being appropriate. Ignoring Loki's sudden mood change, he stood his ground, reminding himself of his plan to get this off his chest. If he had learned anything in that dank, dark cave it was that he couldn't let things dwell or brush them aside to deal with later.

There was no guarantee 'later' would ever come.

He felt his face go slack watching Loki take out and light a cigarette. _Well, that's new_. When had Loki started smoking? He hadn't realized he asked the question out loud, and Loki purposely inhaling deeply on it, nearly made him forget the whole thing. Sure, he indulged in both nicotine and marijuana when he was socializing. But Loki had never indulged with him. Brushing all that aside, he sat on the coffee table, hoping it was strong enough to hold his weight. He knew Loki was likely to explode at him, but what he hadn't expected was for Loki to break so easily. He had always been so strong, so resilient—more than he knew, Tony believed—when they were a couple of dumb teenagers, even after those fights with his dad. Their classmates had picked on him a lot in high school, for his clothes, his accent, his intelligence, and in their eyes, his effeminate ways. But Loki always held his head high, never letting it show how or if the insults hurt. Tony had admired that about his best friend. He never paid much attention to the insults hurled his way for being a science nerd and for being short. Mostly, he just laughed them off. They never said anything that came near what he heard at home.

If Loki's aim now was to make Tony feel as shitty as possible, he was definitely succeeding. And, dammit, that hurt.

Tony was drowning in his shame and self-hatred, just like he had been almost ten years ago when he left unexpectedly for M.I.T. It wasn't planned, but at the time, it was an escape Tony couldn't resist taking. There was no way to explain this without hurting Loki further, or without making himself look like a pathetic piece of shit. Which he totally was; and he deserved every bit of Loki's resentment. But he couldn't let Loki think he hadn't cared at all. The way Loki recoiled away from him made his jaw set and he slid over further on the table, forcing Loki to look at him.

"I'm not leaving until you hear what I have to say."

"I don't care what you have to say," Loki snarled through clenched teeth, whirling around to face Tony, his face going red.

"I know! But you have to hear it anyway!"

"Why?" Loki yelled angrily, throwing up his hands.

"Because," Tony grabbed for Loki's flailing wrist, tugging hard enough to get him to still. "Finding you and tracking you down to tell you this; holding on to the thought that I would, one day, get to see you, at least one more time, was the only thing keeping me alive in that fucking c…cave."

* * *

Loki hated crying. He hated how easily his eyes would water. He teared up when he laughed hard and when he was frightened; Hel, any emotion Loki felt, he felt deeply and it took a lot of years, and effort, to keep it from showing. He grumbled to himself, annoyed that he was getting snot and tears all over the sleeves of his favorite shirt, and upset that his pale face was likely marred now, his eyes, nose and cheeks reddened because of the damned tears. When Tony slid closer, it was all he could do not to scream.

God, was Tony infuriating. He should have never let him in…

Then his stomach plummeted straight to his feet at Tony's quasi-confession. He stared at the genius—his former best friend-turned-lover—tears welling, again, mouth hanging open. Tony seemed genuine, but a small part of Loki warned him not to be persuaded by him or his attempt at garnering sympathy. Slowly, he drew his arm from Tony's grasp, and took a moment to process the genius' words. Something like irritation had his brow furrowing.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

Tony's eyes had dropped to his lap when Loki pulled away, and now he looked up, shock registering across his face. "What? The truth?"

Loki scoffed, under his breath, and reached for his smoldering cigarette, taking a quick puff before placing it in the ashtray again. "You vanish from my life after five months of…" His jaw clenched briefly. "And I am to believe, after all these years of nothing between us, all you could think of when your life was in danger was _me_?"

His eyes slid to Tony, who only shrugged, his own eyes darting about before settling on Loki again. "'S the truth."

Loki swiped his fingers over his nose, sniffling again, shaking his head. "Do me a favor, Stark? Don't feed me your pretty lies. It doesn't work on me. It never did."

"I'm not ly—" Tony stopped himself, sighed in frustration, and groaned behind his hands, pushing them up into his hair. "You don't want to believe me, fine. Don't. The one person who could prove that you're the only thing I thought about or talked about is dead now anyway."

Loki blanched visibly at the casual way Tony said that, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a stab of guilt.

"All I want to do is explain why I left, Loki."

Back ramrod straight, his chin lowering until he was scowling at Tony, Loki's lip curled as he nearly growled, "You think I don't know why you left?"

Leaning back slightly, because he'd never heard Loki's voice go so low and threatening like that, Tony blinked slowly, eyeing the man across from him cautiously. "I…no, I don't think you—"

"I know you better than you know yourself, Anthony Stark. And I know _exactly_ why you left." Loki's breath caught, and his eyes filled again, but he resisted the urge to blink, lest they spill over.

And still Tony said nothing.

"You left because you are a coward." He looked away now, had to, to catch the tears as they slid down his cheeks. But the darker part of him _wanted_ Tony to see his pain and suffering. So he forced himself to keep his head up. "It may not have been my plan to confess to you the night I told you how I felt, but at least I was honest with you. You're the only person I was ever completely honest with. Damn it…" he muttered to himself, still swiping at his face.

"…Loki…"

"You were the one person on this bloody rock that I trusted. I knew you like the back of my own hand." His breath caught in his throat again. "That you thought I wouldn't see that something—that _you_ —had changed, or notice how you'd started to pull away from me…"

He sniffled and lifted his eyes to Tony, his black lashes lumped together, fanned out around his viridian eyes. His heart ached, seeing the similar effort Tony made to hold in his own tears. He never could stand to see the man upset.

"You could have been honest with me," he said brokenly. "I would have…I would have remained your friend…" His chin quivered, fresh tears welled.

Tony blinked, first in confusion, then to clear his eyes, and his head snapped up. "…Wait. What?"

"I knew you never really wanted me—not in that way. But you were my...only true friend," he managed through hitching breaths. Loki pulled his sleeves over his hands and rubbed at his face, inhaling deeply, his breath coming in short gasps. He waited until the sobs calmed enough so he could speak. "You've said what you needed to, yes?" He started to rise, but Tony's arm snaked out, his hand wrapping around Loki's forearm, stopping him.

"Wait! You think I skipped out because I didn't want to sleep with you anymore?"

In a split second, Loki's expression of reluctant acceptance morphed into one of suppressed rage. "Thank you for putting it so succinctly, Stark. I assure you that was unnecessary." He tried to stand again, but Tony's grip only tightened and he slid over to trap Loki between his legs.

"No, Loki, listen to me."

The raven-haired man tugged at his arm, slapped at Tony's hand. "I have. You've said your peace; now let me be!"

"But—ow!—that's not why I left!" Tony struggled to hold onto Loki's arm, catching the other and holding both between them. "Stop! Stop and I'll let you go!"

"Oh, that's not why you left? What other explanation could there be for your behavior then? It wasn't simply that you stopped initiating sex with me, Anthony. You could hardly look me in the eye anymore; you avoided me at all costs. You shied away from my touch. You couldn't even _talk_ to me anymore. Those are exceptionally obvious signs that you were—"

"In love with you!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I just want to say again, thank you so much for all the positive feedback. It's really helping me write more so you don't know how much I appreciate it. I would say I'm sorry for all the angst, but really, I'm not. And there's probably more to come. So...enjoy!**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Tony didn't know how he expected Loki to react to him admitting that it was the thought of seeing him again that kept him from giving up in that underground prison. But blatant disbelief clearly wasn't on the list. It hurt him that Loki didn't believe that he was the driving force for Tony to crawl his way out of that situation. But he had to put it aside, and get on with his explanation. It was obvious now that how he felt wouldn't change anything or erase the damage he had done.

But Loki needed to know. At the very least, maybe he would hate Tony a little less.

Loki claiming to have known all along why he'd left—Tony was mortified. If he had used a shred of the genius he had, he would have gotten up at that moment and left, and let Loki believe that lie. But…stubborn to a fault, Tony stayed to persist, to have the final word. And then he said it. Blurted it, in fact. That wasn't exactly how Tony had planned to explain his departure to Loki. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't planned to explain _that_ part at all, _ever_ , to Loki. But the time spent held captive in a cave could change a guy's mind. The silence stretched, the tension between them palpable, and Tony squirmed and fidgeted, growing more and more anxious until he felt ready to snap. He didn't move away, but he did release his hold on Loki's arms.

"Look, I just—I wanted you to know the truth. I left because of _me_. Because…I didn't know how to handle…my feelings for you." He sighed, unsure his words were getting through, since Loki sat there, staring at him with a deer-in-headlights look on his face. "I-I was scared and...unprepared, as childish as that sounds. And I didn't…" He sighed. "I can't go back. I can't change what I did or how I hurt you. I wish I could. You don't know how much I wish I could. And, you were right; I am a coward. But it was never because I didn't want you. Why you even thought that…"

Tony might just hate himself for that most of all.

"I…I'm so sorry."

Still Loki didn't move. He barely blinked. He just stared, eyes swimming, still as a statue. If Tony hadn't seen his chest rising and falling, he might've thought he _was_ a statue. He wished Loki would say something, anything. Scream. Yell. Call him a jackass and punch him across the face. It would have been less painful than this dead silence.

 _This was it_ , Tony told himself. This was the moment. It was over. He had said what he needed to. And now it was time, for them both, to close the door on that part of their lives. Maybe he would never know how Steve saved Loki's life. Maybe Loki would never know just how he had saved Tony's. All that was left to do now was to cut the ties that still connected them.

Resigned, and releasing another, heavier, wearier sigh, Tony slowly got to his feet.

"I'm gonna take off." His voice was like gravel; his throat dry and sore from all the tears and emotion he was choking back. "Um…take care of yourself, okay, Loki? And…be happy. I promise, I won't bother you again." He had barely taken a step when cool fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Sit down, you fool."

* * *

What?

That couldn't possibly be true. Loki may not have been the smartest person when it came to relationships, but even at nineteen he had known the difference between a person who was no longer interested and a person who was in love. Hadn't he?

 _What?_

How could he have missed that? He knew Tony so well—or so he thought. What else had he misinterpreted? Questions flooded his mind; so many, he couldn't put two words together to ask even one. He could barely move. His gaze was fixed on Tony as he continued, agreeing with Loki, and apologizing again—for what exactly? For hurting him by vanishing? For ruining what they had been building up? For being a coward?

 _ **What?**_

He had almost laughed at the idea. _Was_ Tony a coward? Loki himself had held onto his feelings for nearly all of high school, and would have kept his mouth shut forever, if it wasn't for that night. Was it not the same thing? He still didn't know why he decided to confess. Years later, when discussing it with one of many therapists he would inevitably be forced to visit, Loki had chalked it up to being in such a vulnerable state. A violent encounter with Thanos, Loki ran to Tony looking for comfort and familiarity. As he always did after such occurrences. Tony was safe. Tony was home.

More than one of those therapists, counselors, and even the dreaded life coaches, he had discussed the situation with lectured Loki on being the more dependent one in a codependent relationship with someone who wasn't strong enough to carry him. Tony had his own problems, they'd said. He couldn't cure yours, too. Loki never saw it that way. He never saw himself dependent on Tony; he never expected Tony to cure him. They leaned on each other, surely. Like he'd said only moments ago, Tony was the only person in the world he trusted—with almost everything. They weren't mirror images of each other; they complimented each other and filled in the gaps the other was missing. Tony was outgoing and friendly, and somehow managed to be the only one who could bring a lighter side out of broody Loki. And not just the mischievous little shit he could be either. Loki was a little more withdrawn and very particular about with whom he socialized. But he brought a stability and seriousness to Tony that he severely lacked.

Loki made Tony more centered; Tony made Loki more personable.

How Loki wished they could find that path again. It seemed too far gone now. Yet there was still a part of him that couldn't let Tony go completely. Too much still unspoken. So when the genius got to his feet and all but said goodbye, Loki's heart nearly stopped for the second time that night. No way did Tony think he could toss out a grenade like that and leave Loki to pick up the pieces— _again_ —and stuck with even more questions. Calmly, he reached up and stopped the man in his tracks.

"Sit down, you fool." Tony obeyed, lowering to the coffee table once more, and Loki immediately pulled his hand back, lacing his fingers together. And said nothing. He was struggling to not only process everything Tony had already said, but to understand why he stopped him from leaving when he had demanded that the genius leave. Twice.

"Loki…?"

"Did anyone else know?" He didn't know where that question came from either, or why it was important, though he was glad he asked it.

Tony's brows furrowed in thought and he shook his head. "No. Well…Pepper guessed right. And…I told Rhodey a couple years after…"

 _After what?_ "And what did our dear Ms. Potts say?"

Tony shrugged, shaking his head. "Does it really matter? We didn't talk about it until…uh. A long time after I left."

Loki crossed his arms as he listened, curling into himself, though he and Tony still sat close, their legs just touching. That, more than anything either had said so far, was keeping Loki on edge. He was afraid to move, to shift his legs. He didn't want Tony to think he was bothered by their legs touching—which he wasn't—and he didn't want to push them together any more. Tony must have felt the same, for Loki could feel the tension in his leg, resisting himself from moving against Loki.

 _Gods, we're both a mess_ , he chastised to himself.

"So." He spoke, just so it wasn't so uncomfortably quiet between them, both of them looking away from the other, desperately trying to act casual. "You and Pepper then, hmm. Rediscovered love?" The words all but slipped out of his mouth, and he felt a slight chill of embarrassment for sounding so jealous. How pathetic.

"What?" Tony turned his head toward Loki, and his whole body followed, his knee knocking into the other's. They both tensed, and avoided each other's eyes for a moment. "Um, no. She works for—Stark Industries."

Loki nodded, a fake polite smile curving up the ends of his mouth. As if he actually cared, he tried to convince himself, failing miserably. "Ah. So, what, no Playboy playmates in your life?" _Gods, why was he doing this to himself?_

Tony sat forward, resting his arms on his knees, succeeding only in closing the distance between the two men, as Loki's position had him resting forward as well. "No…" he answered hesitantly. "Uh, there hasn't really been anybody since…well, since you, actually."

Loki snorted, grinning when Tony looked at him with wide eyes. "Who do you think you're fooling? Have you any idea how often your name is in the news or on the internet, particularly on the gossip and entertainment sites?"

Tony scoffed derisively, but Loki could see the smugness in that smirk.

"You've been linked to pop stars and ingenues, and everything in between, Stark." He reached for his cigarette again, for something to do with his hands, to look casual; anything, so he didn't look like the pathetic jealous ex that he suddenly felt like. "Your life after college was no different than your life after high school," he muttered before taking a short puff.

Tony laughed and Loki rolled his eyes. He may have rolled them at Tony; he may have rolled them at himself for grinning at the sound of Tony's amused snicker. A sound he realized he hadn't forgotten. It felt nice to find their old rapport again, even if it was laced with an uneasiness. The elephant in the room, the giant "I was in love with you" hanging over them, was being ignored as best as possible, by both parties. After setting his cigarette into the ashtray again, Loki picked at the corner of a piece of paper next to the genius on the table, pretending not to notice when Tony leaned in close, into his personal space.

"Hey."

Loki went still, his breath catching briefly when Tony's own breath fanned over his skin. He was so close now, Loki could smell him, inducing a reel of memories, rolling out behind his lowered then closed eyes; all conjured up simply by an odd bouquet of soap, liquor, and a hint of WD-40. So completely Tony. A slight turn of his head and their mouths were but inches apart. Viridian flicked up to chocolate brown.

"Don't believe everything you read." A slim black eyebrow shot up at Tony's murmur. "Some flirtations, maybe a date or two, but there was never anything serious. Not since you crept your way into my…brain."

They both knew that was not the word he intended to say, but the message was still received. His breath growing shallower by the second, Loki found himself gravitating closer and closer to those lips, as if being pulled in by a magnet. Mere millimeters from brushing Tony's mouth with his own, Loki turned his head away, as once more, the opening of the front door interrupted them.


	6. Chapter 6

This back and forth was going to kill Tony. Normally his patience was zilch, but, for Loki, he seemed willing to hold onto it like a lifeline for as long as he could.

Loki's silence wasn't always a good thing. More often than not, when they were teens, it was a sign that something had happened at home and Loki was lost in his thoughts about what was said, what could have been said, and his response to it all. Tony assumed that's what was happening now, but a little nudge couldn't be resisted.

He felt odd when Loki brought up Pepper, which explained his glossing over of her relevance. She didn't just work for Stark Industries. She was a main fixture in his life now, taking Loki's place as Tony's confidant, and oftentimes, his moral compass. She just wasn't as successful as Loki had been. The redhead did her best with Tony, but nine times out of ten, she was screeching at him for some silly mistake or misstep he'd made. The theme of Tony's life with her seemed to revolve around him apologizing profusely for doing something she had already warned him against in the first place. The heir to the Stark fortune would freely admit that risks to his life, at least up until Afghanistan, were greeted with a wink and a smile.

And then Loki asked a question in the vein of the question Tony himself was too chicken to ask in return. There had never been _someone_ , before or after Loki. In his warped mind, Pepper didn't count because she was a high school fling that served the sole purpose of helping Tony lose his virginity, and was now one of his closest friends. Once he had shed the science nerd stigma that followed him through junior high and high school, college had become a lot more fun.

Then that fateful night with Loki happened.

Tony still had moments when he couldn't wrap his head around just how this skinny, tall drink of water snatched him up so easily. In his first year of college, no less. After that first awkward morning after, somehow, they managed to slip right back into being best friends—in public. Privately, they would occasionally—meaning every opportunity they got—fuck like rabbits.

There was never an official title given; they weren't _boyfriends_. They did what they normally did as best friends. They went to classes. they went to the movies, they helped each other with homework. And all the while, they were not-so-discreetly sleeping together. But eventually, Tony realized his feelings for his best friend had, over the five months they'd been mixing regular life with physical pleasure, developed into something he hadn't the faintest idea how to navigate.

Looking at him now, still annoyingly tall, still mind-boggling slim but fit, and still with the flawless skin, razor-sharp cheekbones and big green eyes—had the son of a bitch grown _more_ handsome in their time apart?—Tony had come to the realization that his feelings hadn't subsided very much in the span of ten years.

He was gnawing on the inside of his cheek, acutely aware of how close he and Loki were sitting. Was it foolish to mildly flirt with Loki while leaning in toward him, hoping desperately the distance between their lips might close? Absolutely. Would he stop or regret it, even if it didn't go over well? Absolutely _not_.

But Tony wouldn't get that chance—yet, he hoped.

"You really gotta start locking your door," he muttered under his breath as yet another familiar face burst into the apartment. He slid an inch, or two—or several—away from Loki, and glanced up, surprised to see it was Natasha Romanov standing in the doorway. She walked in, as if it were her apartment—and who knows, maybe it was—and came to a halt just inside the door, head cocked to the side, those all-seeing mossy green eyes bouncing like two rubber balls between Tony and Loki.

 _Oh, hell,_ he thought when her lips curved knowingly.

"Well, hello there, Tony Stark." She slipped her fingers into the pockets of her faux-fur lined black jacket, popping her jean-clad hip casually, and he looked away to roll his eyes. "Long time no see."

"Romanov," he muttered flatly, without looking at her.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." She didn't sound at all apologetic to Tony—more disgustingly gleeful, he would say. He glanced over his shoulder at her just as she stepped back out the door, making some movements with her hands then shouting for someone named Clint.

"Get your ass in here. Is Barnes around?" she asked, looking back to Loki, who was giving her the mother of all death glares from what Tony could see. "He invited us down," she explained, ignorant of or ignoring Loki. The smile he gave her could only be described as sarcastic.

"In his bedroom, with Steven," he answered, pointing a finger toward the hall just as a well-muscled blond man stepped into the apartment.

 _Could she not hear the muffled music?_ Tony wondered to himself.

"Hi, Loki." The man's eyes landed on Tony, and the genius noted the flash of recognition in his blue gaze. The lone stranger in the apartment—to Tony—seemed to instantly pick up on the tension in the room and wisely said nothing. Though he did smile. Several moments of awkward silence stretched among the foursome, and Tony noticed some sort of wordless conversation happening between Loki and Natasha. Before he could speak up, though, Natasha was curling a fist into the shirt of the man beside her, and tugging him toward the hallway. He was almost positive the mocking roll of her eyes was meant for Loki.

As they passed by, Tony heard the man question her, "Babe, am I high or is that Tony Stark sitting in the living room?"

"Yes," she responded tonelessly and reached out to grab the doorknob on Bucky's door.

"I'm not _actually_ high, you know that right?"

" _Jesus, Red! Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"_ Bucky's voice, and an aggravated shout from Steve, floated out just before the door slammed shut. By the indignant tone, Tony assumed the two lovebirds were in the middle of something intimate. He snickered softly at the thought and glanced at Loki, who was perfectly still and looking very irritated. Like a wet cat.

"So. Expecting anyone else?" he asked through an anxious chuckle, snapping his fingers together in an old nervous habit that had recently made a comeback. "Any other old college faces I could get a head's up about?"

"No," Loki answered softly. "Just the three of them."

They both looked toward the hall when a burst of laughter sounded, and something made a loud bang against the wall of Bucky's bedroom.

Their eyes met, and Tony breathed in deeply, because now the air around them was charged with a different kind of tension. "Listen. I don't want you to think I'm looking for an opportunity here, but…is there someplace we can go to talk?" He shot a side glance toward the hall, half grinning, even as Loki remained completely still. "Without the chance of being interrupted, I mean."

After a beat, Loki reached for his smoldering cigarette. "What is there left to talk about?" he asked before bringing it to his lips.

Tony watched him closely, noting the way his fingers trembled as he inhaled. "Well, we could start with what nearly happened about five minutes ago." Loki blew out smoke, away from Tony, and said nothing. But Tony could tell he was thinking, debating. "We could walk down the street," he offered. "I saw a bar. Maybe we could get a drink?"

"No."

Tony stiffened at Loki's terse response, watching as he stabbed the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray, and got to his feet. _One step forward, two steps back_. He stared up at the man towering over him, brows raised in question.

"I don't drink."

* * *

Later, he might strangle Natasha. Barging into his place, as she was wont to do since she moved into an apartment in the same complex a year or so after Bucky moved in—Loki had been living there for some time already. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle her for her poor manners or because she interrupted his near-kiss with Tony.

If there was one weakness in Loki Laufeyson's life, clearly, it was Anthony Edward Stark.

Loki was not a man to burden himself with regrets. But he was also not a man with a great deal of self-control. He often did things on instinct or emotion, and would later find a way to reason with himself, with his conscience, to explain why he had done them in the first place. And now, like the hopelessly romantic fool he rarely could be, he was falling for Tony's charming ways all over again.

That kiss had "mistake" written all over it.

Loki's world had all but collapsed after Tony left. A fact he was loathe to admit. It wasn't worth rehashing all the stupid shit he had done in the aftermath of Tony's sudden departure—none of which he regretted, of course—but it took years of therapy, some time in more than one rehabilitation facility, a move to a city thousands of miles away from the only home he had ever known, and a lot of soul-searching for Loki to finally be able to put it behind him. And to move on from Tony.

So what did it say now, that, given the chance, Loki would likely jump right back into bed with him?

The thought, and the fact that Loki knew there was no question he would do it if Tony made even a minor attempt to seduce him, put him on edge as Natasha, and her boyfriend, Clint Barton, whom she had met through Bucky, exited the room. When his and Tony's eyes met, his breath caught in his throat. Confusing. But, thankfully, Tony didn't even notice. Loki could feel his resolve crumbling, mentally arguing with himself, trying—desperately—to remind himself how he'd felt when Tony disappeared, all but abandoning him. The hurt, the anger, the debilitating pain that no amount of liquor, drugs, or meaningless sex could relieve.

 _Bad idea_ , a voice in the back of his mind piped up when Tony suggested they go somewhere else to talk.

 _He just wants to talk._

 _He just wants to fuck you up again._

 _Or just fuck you._

 _What's left to talk about? Everything, you imbecile_ , he answered his own question.

At the suggestion of drinks, Loki forced that bit of his conscience to be quiet, and shot Tony down more forcefully than he'd intended. Freshly showered, exhausted from his day, even if he hadn't given up alcohol years ago, he wasn't in the mood to be anywhere outside of his apartment. His haven. His safety zone. But Tony was right—this time; they needed to be able to talk, possibly even to simply have it out, without being interrupted.

Resigning himself to old habits—acting now, thinking later—Loki rose and almost mechanically tidied up his papers, shut off the stereo, and crossed to the door to lock it. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, and he felt the heat of Tony's eyes on him practically burning into his back as he moved about the room. Swallowing thickly, he finally met the other's eyes, and gave a quick jerk of his head before turning down the dark hallway.

And headed straight to his bedroom.

Loki's was the largest of the two bedrooms, with enough space for a small desk that he kept as equally neat as the bedroom itself. Every available space along his walls was lined with bookshelves of varying heights and widths, most of them made of dark woods, and each stuffed to capacity with books of every genre. One of them was filled entirely with books focusing on his trade.

Inside the room now, Loki tugged on his desk chair as he passed by it, letting it roll away on the hardwood floor from the desk as he settled at the foot of his queen-sized bed. Tony saw it, correctly, as his cue and stepped inside. Closing the door quietly behind him, he reached for the chair and rolled to sit before Loki.

"Feels like old times, huh?"

A picture of the two of them, sitting just like this, in Tony's dorm, all those years ago, flashed before Loki's eyes. "Hmm. Only this time I've no bruises for you to mend. No visible ones, at least."

Tony winced, as if he'd just been socked in the arm.

 _Damn it._ If it hadn't already been awkward, Loki's words had certainly done the trick. Annoyed with himself, he sighed sharply, keeping his eyes down, focusing on the plush pale gold carpet that was laid beneath his bed. "I'm sorry."

Tony grinned ruefully, lowering his head. "Don't be. I deserved that."

Breathing out a suppressed, frustrated breath, Loki reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Why could you not have simply told me how you felt? I could have—…" He had no idea how to finish that sentence, and sighed in frustration again instead. He looked at Tony, who was peeking up at him through those impossibly long, black lashes, for an answer.

"Seriously? Why didn't I—" He scoffed softly. "Why do you think, Loki?"

"If I had any clue, I wouldn't have asked."

Tony lifted his head, threw up his hands, as if that was an answer. "What the fuck did I know about love? The only person who cared about me back then was Jarvis."

"He was _not_ the only one," Loki stated vehemently.

"No, I—I know. I meant…besides you. I was scared, okay?" His shoulders rose and fell, and the expression on his face made Loki's heart ache. "I didn't know how to…deal with what I was feeling. I saw you, I talked to you, nearly every day, and on the rare nights that we didn't spend together, I was miserable. When I started to avoid you, and pretend to be busy when you wanted to hang out, I—I…"

As he spoke, Tony's hands and fingers were in constant motion, wringing together, knuckles cracking, rubbing his palms together. A nervous habit from his youth, Loki recalled, his eyebrows drawing together. As his words faded, Tony laid a hand over his chest, rubbing at it, and Loki's brow knit further.

"I _missed_ you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Minor edit to Chap. 6. The carpet isn't mocha-colored. It's pale gold. My bad!**

 **Anyway, thanks for getting past 1,000 hits! That's a big deal to me so...yay. Enjoy this update. And sorry for the feels.**

 **Also, I'm trying a new thing here. On AO3 it's easy to post a summary for each chapter. doesn't offer this option, so I decided to add it in before you get to the actual chapter. If this is something that's bothersome, please let me know. Thanks!**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Summary: Alone now, in Loki's bedroom, emotions are still high, and this time, it's Loki who makes a surprising confession.

* * *

Loki's bedroom was exactly what Tony would have pictured for him. The colors were his signature shades—dark greens, pale golds, and lots of black. It all screamed Loki. Especially the large number of books. Posters of films and Loki's favorite bands covered the walls. His tastes hadn't changed much: films with dark, twisted themes— _a lot_ of Tim Burton, naturally—and bands that played music that showcased hard, driving guitars with slim, pale-faced men in dramatic makeup. Tony couldn't help notice that there were no pictures of Loki himself, or his friends. Or family.

They were alike in that way, he supposed. Unsentimental.

Moving to sit in the desk chair, Tony rolled up to the foot of the bed. He tried to lighten the mood with a flippant observation and ended up creating an even more uncomfortable situation. _Fucking hell._ He was wondering if this guilt weighing him down would ever dissipate when Loki interrupted with a question he hadn't realized he'd been dreading. His first instinct was to make up some excuse. _God, you're a piece of shit, Tony_ , he thought, resisting the urge to fan himself because he felt like he was sitting in a sauna. Suddenly recalling the conversation they had had the night Loki had revealed how he felt, Tony remembered telling his best friend that he was too selfish to be in a serious relationship and never thought about anyone else. He remembered Loki ardently denied that. But considering what Tony did five months later…

Cheeks burning, heart racing, arc reactor humming; Tony hadn't felt this kind of pressure since he was in the cave with a weapon aimed at his head. One that, quite literally, had his name on it. For once, neither one of them had a sarcastic comment or a quick quip to ease the tension between them.

So much had changed.

This was a bad idea. He should leave; he should let Loki be. He had clearly moved on and Tony was only bringing up bad history for him, despite their years of friendship before. He had undeniably broken Loki's heart. He didn't deserve another chance to own it. He didn't even deserve to be in his life. He tensed, his bouncing leg stilling, as Loki shifted, raising his head to peer at Tony with those piercing eyes.

"You say you missed me when I wasn't with you…" Tony only nodded, unsure of where this conversation was headed. "Then…why did you leave? Why did you steal away in the middle of the night?" Loki's voice broke on his final word and he took a beat to compose himself before returning a heated glare Tony's way. "No note. No phone call. No explanation. Have you any idea how…how much I _fretted_?"

His throat closed up on him. Tony tried several times to swallow down the thickness clogging his airway. "I didn't know how to say goodbye," he finally choked out.

Loki fell forward, his elbows digging into his knees as he buried his face behind his hands. And cried silently.

"Lo…" Stopping to take a calming breath, because he couldn't even manage Loki's full name, Tony rolled the desk chair closer, his hands reaching out for Loki's. At the last moment, Tony chose not to touch him. "I know. I know I'm a piece of shit for what I did. I'm—I'm lower than dirt. I wasn't—I wasn't expecting the early admission to come through. I didn't think I was going until the fall, and Howard showed up to tell me, hounding me, pressuring me to take it because he was still pissed at me that I chose to go to a smaller college. And the night that I left, it—it all happened really fast. Dad called to tell me he was coming, and I panicked, and I started to pa—I know, I _know_ —it was a dick move, that I put all your stuff away, but I–I didn't know how to explain to him why your stuff would be—and he—and then he was there, and we argued because I didn't—I didn't want to leave, and I just, I couldn't take it. He was screaming at me and I couldn't think and I didn't want hurt you, but I couldn't find the words to tell him why I didn't want to go to M.I.T., which only made things worse, and—"

"Anthony. Anthony!"

Gasping for breath Tony went silent. He didn't know how it happened, but somehow, Loki was holding his hands.

* * *

This was the most confused Loki had ever felt. The answers to the questions he had held onto for a decade had finally been answered. Yet they only fielded more questions. His emotions ran the gamut; from angry and hurt, to sympathetic and pitying.

It was no wonder he and Tony had latched onto each other in junior high. Loki had still been the "new kid" at that point, but then being grouped together for a project in seventh grade English that required they spend a lot of time together, outside of the classroom, had the two teens getting to know each other better. They were instant friends, and because Tony was a talker—which had a young, intuitive Loki surmising that his friend was quite neglected at home—they discovered quickly they had a lot in common.

Even as adults, they both still suffered from the poor relationships they had with their fathers. And the effect that had on their other relationships.

Loki watched, horrified, as Tony grew more and more hysterical, his eyes swimming in tears, darting aimlessly. When he started to ram his closed fists into his legs—unaware, if the haze of anger in his eyes said anything—Loki had no choice but to take action. He shifted forward to grab him by the wrists and forced his hands open, slipping his own into Tony's to keep them from curling up again, shouting his name.

And then it was silent.

"Um." Tony looked pointedly at his hands, the fog he'd been in fading, and Loki gently pulled his own away.

"You were…I was trying to stop…I didn't want you to hurt…"

"Thanks," he muttered back, swiping at his eyes.

Loki nodded. "Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Tony quirked a brow and Loki idly wondered himself what he meant by that, and hurried to explain himself. "You, erm, you keep saying it was the thought of me that kept you going in that…mm." He gave a sharp shake of his head at the thought of Tony held up in that cave. Tony looked away. "It's been…months since you returned."

"Six months, one week, four days, and roughly about twenty-two hours." Loki stared at Tony's profile, but he was staring out at nothing, eyes unmoving, breath shaky as he breathed out slowly. He said nothing, didn't even move, afraid he might set off something in Tony with the reminder. "Coming back was…" he started, paused to swallow—audibly in the silence of Loki's bedroom, even with the backing soundtrack of muted classic rock from Bucky's down the hall. "An adjustment. I was gonna—I wanted to come sooner."

Loki's eyes shot to his arm where Tony had just laid his hand. Warm to the touch, it felt like solid heat to Loki's cool skin, even with the thin cotton of his sweater between the contact. Still, he wouldn't meet Loki's gaze.

"But then—all the stuff about Obie was discovered. Pepper found it on the—I mean, it was all there. On his computer at work. He wanted the company. He wanted all for himself. He set up everything. The whole thing—the kidnapping, which, actually, I wasn't meant to survive." Loki gasped and Tony's fingers tightened over his wrist. "And…there's a highly probable possibility that he was involved in my…parents'…" His words died off in a choked sob and Loki, abandoning all hesitation, drew Tony close as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Stop. Stop. You don't have to explain." His lips parted in silent protest as Tony's arms wrapped around him, tight enough to briefly cut off his oxygen, and buried his face in Loki's shoulder, Tony's own trembling with the effort to control his emotions. "It's all right, Anthony," he murmured, reaching up to rest his palm against Tony's dark hair.

"They're gone, Loki," he gasped out. "I didn't…get to…say…goodbye."

Instinctively, Loki carded his fingers through Tony's hair, soothing, calming, and he inhaled deeply before murmuring by his ear, "That's why I did it for you."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So here's the part where I take liberties with the history (comic and movie) of Tony Stark and his parents. Obviously, I've already done that, but a heads up anyway. I am so, so, so glad you're all enjoying this. Now, have some more feels. :)**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Summary: Tony's reaction to Loki attending his parents' funeral brings up a whole new set of issues.

* * *

 _Well, that was embarrassing_.

Tony had a weird habit of rambling when he was nervous, or just bullshitting off the fly. Something that had started when he was a child, that he had curbed as a teenager, and then came roaring back after the traumatizing incident of being kidnapped and held prisoner. His knees ached where, apparently, he had been pounding his fists, and his cheeks burned, realizing it was Loki's hands he was clutching onto for life. Crying, raging, stumbling over explanations. Could this night get any worse?

Yes, obviously, it could.

Tony had spoken before of the situation with Obadiah Stane, his father's most trusted friend and colleague. Publicly. Why all the frustration and pure unadulterated hate came up and poured out the way it did with Loki, he didn't know. Maybe it was due for an eruption; the whole thing had been building inside him since Pepper made the discovery. The betrayal Tony felt himself by a man he thought of as family, was only exacerbated by the fact that his father had been spared having to experience it himself. Howard would have handled it better. But while Tony had been fighting for his own life, in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in New York, his father's car, taking Howard and Maria to one of their many events, had been run off the road. There was very little comfort knowing that neither of his parents suffered any pain.

Tony had been rescued, yes; but he'd also been returned to a completely different life. Jarvis had passed away when he was at M.I.T. What little family Tony had once had was now gone. And now, Loki's words had his breath catching in his throat as he pulled himself out of his arms. "Wh…what do you mean?" He took a shaky breath. "What does that mean?"

"It means I…attended their services." Loki's voice was low, his head bowed. He sat back, his hands laced together in his lap. Tony wasn't sure why he looked so anxious. The revelation had Tony's brow furrowing in confusion.

"I don't get it," he mumbled before sniffling. "Why would you go to their funeral? Didn't you hate me?"

Loki frowned and shook his head, looking very annoyed. "No, I did not hate you. I _wanted_ to. And I may have cursed your name from here to oblivion. But I never hated you."

Still confused, Tony dropped his eyes to his hands. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

"Even if I had, it had nothing to do with your parents." Tony looked up and Loki shrugged as their eyes met. "They may not have been the most stellar of people, but…they were always kind to me."

Instantly, Tony tensed. They were terrible parents, Howard and Maria; and from the stuff Pepper had heard around the office, despite their philanthropic efforts, they weren't much better human beings either. The reminder of it all had something itching between his shoulder blades. "So, really, you went for _them_."

"I certainly wasn't going to see _you_ , now was I?" Tony's frown hardened into a scowl. His fingers curled into fists, even as Loki met him glare for glare. What was Loki getting bent out of shape for? Tony was the one who had a right to be irritated. "Despite what had happened between us, Stark, I had known them since I was a child. It was only right for me to pay my respects."

Still bothered, Tony lifted his chin, eyes still locked on Loki. "Would you have gone if I wasn't in the…desert?"

He watched the stubbornness all but drain from Loki, feeling a small sense of guilt when he finally broke their heated staring contest, and glanced away. "I…don't know."

He ignored that stupid feeling of remorse for behaving like a whiny little bitch to the one person to whom he shouldn't be anything but contrite. His frustration and confusion was on the rise and he couldn't help but pick at the already bleeding wound. "I bet it was an elaborate affair. What did that guy say in _Jurassic Park_? Spare no expense. Probably played up the Catholic angle, too, huh? For Maria. Tributes up the ass, extolling the virtues of the last great modern genius and the trophy wife he repeatedly fucked over."

"Stop it." Loki practically hissed the words as he got to his feet and turned away.

"What? Why? I didn't even get started on the kid they all but ignored until he made a name for himself at M.I.T. Imagine how much more publicity and charity they would have gotten had I been returned earli—" The chair Tony sat in propelled back forcefully by his own feet, screeching against the hardwood floor, when Loki whipped around.

"You are a spoiled brat!"

* * *

 _Well, fuck._ Loki hadn't meant to let that little detail slip. Tony's parents had always been a source of contention for the sole son of the couple, and when they had been younger, Loki was quick to take Tony's side. He saw firsthand the effects of the undue pressure Tony's father had put on him to succeed, and the resentment Tony had held against his mother for never stepping in to defend him. And the guilt that weighed on him because he would never live up to their expectations. They weren't any better to him once he and Loki left for college. Loki often felt Tony's outward behavior—his treatment of women, and his blatant dislike of authority, specifically—only worsened as an adult away from home because his parents had drifted even further from their only child. Tony would never admit to it, but he had always been desperate for his father's approval and his mother's attention. That he never got either would weigh on him for the rest of life.

But there was so much more to Tony than what they saw—or chose to see. There was a sweetness about him, that he kept reserved for only the closest of friends. He could be generous, to a fault, and was quick to aid a wounded bird—one such as Loki. For all his bravado, Tony Stark was a complete softie. It was probably why he still had Pepper in his life. But he was still the son of Howard Stark. The senior Stark, despite Tony's feelings, was a well-respected businessman; a genius in his own right, he built an empire that he groomed his son, from birth, to take over one day. Perhaps it was his form of love. But, for Tony, it was never enough. Loki understood more than anyone what living with a distant father was like.

The two of them talked a big game as swaggering teenagers, but who knows what a little compassion from Howard and Laufey would have done for them. And after Tony had been captured, the world saw a very different side to Howard Stark.

Loki expected Tony to bristle at the news that he had attended his parents' services. But there was an almost accusatory tone in the young genius' voice, that had Loki's back going up. He let it pass, for now, but even his sitting position on the edge of the bed was stiff and apprehensive. He softened, visibly, he knew, wondering himself if he would have attended the Starks' services had Tony been there. He thought he might have. He simply would have stayed hidden in the back of the church.

His hackles were on the rise again, though, at Tony's flippant description of the services. No matter that he was right on the money, Loki still found it disrespectful, and in an effort to keep his temper, he rashly put some distance between them.

And still Tony continued to antagonize.

There were a lot of heated emotions simmering inside Loki tonight. As much as he tried to push them down, the blow up was inevitable. And he'd found his outlet. The release felt great; adrenaline pumped through his veins as Tony gawked at him, mouth agape, brown eyes wide. Clearly, neither of them were expecting Loki to be that bold.

"Excuse me?"

The standing man breathed a short breath out through his nose. "They weren't perfect, but for gods' sake, Anthony, you had everything you ever wanted. A silver spoon in a silver bowl on a silver platter."

"Yeah," Tony incredulously agreed, jumping to his feet, "With strings attached to everything. You of all people know what I grew up with."

Loki shook his head, his brows furrowing even as his eyes remained hard and piercing. "Your mother was devastated when you disappeared. She nearly had a nervous breakdown. I know what you thought of your father, Anthony—and the sentiment I shared at one time. But if you had seen him then…"

Loki could see immediately how quickly Tony rejected that notion. "Please," the genius spat, riling Loki's anger. "He was probably out celebrating every night—"

"No!" Loki ground out the word between clenched teeth, taking one step, narrowing the distance between them. Tony pressed his lips together and visibly stiffened. "That man funneled every cent he could into efforts to find you. He begged and pleaded, with public officials, the military—everyone! He tried to call in favors everywhere. And with every day that passed he fell deeper and deeper into a bottle."

"You lie," Tony whispered fiercely, tears springing to his eyes.

"You're ungrateful. I would give my life for five minutes more with my mother. You had nearly thirty years. What did you do with it?" He looked away from the stricken look on Tony's face, adjusting his shirt for something to do with his hands. "Just minutes ago you were in tears because you didn't get to say goodbye to them. Are you this fickle in all your relationships?"

"Hey, I never flip-flopped on my feelings for you!"

Loki looked at him now, eyes still burning bright green, surprised, to say the least, at Tony's sudden conviction. "You never _told_ me how you felt about me."

"I was scared! I've never felt like that about anyone before! I still haven't!"

" _What do you want from me?_ " Loki roared, throwing his hands up in frustration. Tony visibly swallowed. "Do you want _me_ to cry for _you_?"

The room went dead silent, and they both froze, at a knock on Loki's bedroom door.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I have wifi again! Had issues last night so I couldn't post. Thank you all, again, for the great response. Enjoy!**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Summary: Loki's irritation and anger are on the rise, and he's itching for a chance to vent his frustrations. Unfortunately, Tony is starting to break under the guilt, he assumes, right before his eyes.

* * *

This was bullshit.

It wasn't necessarily that Tony didn't believe Loki. But his former best friend had always been great at weaving an appealing tale. He was sure if he had looked up the press reports about his disappearance, at some point, he would find evidence of this vigorous attempt to find him for himself. But it was too hard to believe. Howard was rarely nice to Tony. Always disappointed, always annoyed. Backhanded compliments. That's what Tony remembered of him.

How did Loki know any of this anyway? He wanted to ask the question, but hearing about his father's efforts to find him… What was it with these goddamn tears?!

"You lie."

It _was_ a lie. It had to be a lie. Howard Stark was a cold and calculating man. Tony couldn't recall him ever saying he loved him, or even that he liked his only son. To suddenly hear that the man was doing everything in his power to search for him was a little hard to digest.

Maria was another story. She had her own problems with Howard. He was a verbal abuser, a workaholic, and was more concerned about making money and keeping up appearances than cultivating a healthy relationship with his wife and son. It drove his once soft-spoken, proper mother to drink, made her resentful, and completely altered her personality. Yet, she still loved him. She had moments of despondency when she didn't care about nurturing their marriage, then suddenly changed her mind and did everything and anything to make Howard happy. Through it all, she forgot about her son, letting him fall to the wayside, and leaving Jarvis to tend to the boy. They were both short-tempered, exacerbated by the drinking they both indulged in—particularly with Tony. They made it uncomfortable for Tony to be at home, flip-flopping between screaming matches and obnoxiously loud bouts of sex.

Tony never, consciously, saw the parallels to his own brief relationship with Loki.

Love, in the Stark household, wasn't an emotion. It was a commodity, a tool used to manipulate and bargain. When Tony realized his feelings for Loki, the chance that they _could_ end up like Howard and Maria terrified him. Ten years later, and he was standing in Loki's bedroom, raising his voice to levels he'd only ever heard coming from the Stark master suite.

" _Do you want_ me _to cry for_ you _?"_

They both went completely still at the knock on Loki's door, and Tony wondered if Loki felt the same sharp sting of embarrassment that he did. Had Loki's friends been listening the entire time? He reluctantly raised his eyes to Loki's, who met his gaze from beneath deeply furrowed brows, but neither of them made an effort to move. Another knock made Tony flinch and lower his eyes.

 _"Loki."_ It was Bucky.

"What is it, James?" he called out, and Tony randomly tried to recall if Loki called him that back in college.

 _"Hey, uh, we're gonna take off. Get some drinks or something. Maybe you should come with…"_ His voice trailed off, making it seem more like an open-ended suggestion than a polite invitation. Tony peeked up at Loki, but could read nothing on his face.

"No, thank you, I'm fine here. You all go on."

There was a beat of silence, and then a firm, _"Loki, open the door."_

A strangled noise of frustration escaped Loki as he moved forward, and Tony side-stepped out of his way, moving toward the other end of the room. He eyed the window, leading to a back alley that opened to the street it seemed, calculating just how he could get it open without simply tossing Loki's desk chair right through it. He deliberately avoided eavesdropping, occasionally making out sounds but no specific words. Once he heard the door click shut again, he half-turned to glance Loki's way. But Loki said nothing.

Tony was starting to feel like an intruder. A stranger. Uninvited. Mentally, he scolded himself for not leaving sooner, when Loki had demanded he do so. He'd said what he needed to. That he still felt the draw to Loki, a strong one at that, was evidently, obviously, one-sided. _Fuck this._

"I'm gonna get out of here," he all but mumbled taking steps for the door. He froze in his spot halfway across the room when Loki pressed himself against the door, effectively blocking his way.

"No."

Shit _._

* * *

He was gonna throttle Bucky.

His body taut with tension, Loki wondered just how long ago his roommate had turned off his music. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed Bucky had been listening in—he had heard Bucky and Steve in moments of pleasure and startling arguments plenty of times. He was simply irritated by the interruption.

He and Tony were finally getting to the heart of their conflict; he was on the verge of getting more answers, and a long-awaited release seemed imminent, when Bucky's intrusion brought everything to a crashing halt. It was so quiet in his bedroom that Loki could hear his heart thumping in his chest in the strained silence. At Bucky's second knock, he asked what he wanted, hoping it was something quick so he and Tony could continue. He should have known Bucky wouldn't let him off that easy.

 _"Loki, open the door,"_ he said so confidently, knowing full well Loki wouldn't brush him off.

Audibly annoyed, Loki stomped to the door and cracked it open just enough to see Bucky's face. He had to bite back a sigh, seeing Steve just off to Bucky's side. Allowing the door open another inch, he raised a brow. "Yes?"

To his credit, Bucky made no move to look beyond Loki, into the room. He knew very well who was on the other side. And the look on his face told Loki well enough that he was not exactly thrilled at the moment. "Everything all right?"

"Everything is fine," he answered deliberately, pronouncing each syllable clearly and precisely, looking pointedly at both. Bucky eyed Loki, quietly, scraping his teeth over his full bottom lip.

"What are you doing, Loki?"

He shifted, angling his head, and popped out his hip as he leaned on the doorknob. "What do you think I'm doing? I waited years for this. Leave me to it."

Bucky still didn't move; not until Steve laid a hand on his arm. The former soldier glanced the blond's way, then back to Loki. "You call me if this goes bad. You hear me? I won't be far. We're just going to the bar down the street."

"It won't be necessary. But thank you. Go, enjoy yourselves. Say goodbye to Natasha and Clint for me." He watched Steve and Bucky head down the hallway, to where Clint and Natasha waited in the open doorway, having a conversation out loud and in ASL. Bucky ushered them all out, glancing back one more time, before he closed the door behind him. Closing his own bedroom door, Loki waited to make sure the quartet was really gone, ready to apologize for the interruption when Tony spoke up.

 _Leave?_ Loki turned, his hand moving to the doorknob again, as he blocked Tony's way. "No."

Tony jerked to a stop. "Why not?" he questioned after a moment.

"We're not done here," Loki stated firmly, a hint of surprise in his tone. That Tony thought he could leave before this was settled astounded Loki.

"Done with what? You—and your roommates—clearly don't want me here," Tony stated, gesturing toward the door; at Bucky, Loki assumed. He could feel his temper rising again, but did his best to keep as tight a lid on it as he could. Loki stepped away from the door, keeping even his breathing in check. But, really, if looks could kill, Tony would definitely be roadkill.

"What was I supposed to do? Roll out the red carpet?"

Dropping his head, rightly abashed, Tony mumbled, "No…of course not."

Raising a hand, Loki jabbed a finger at Tony. "You owe me this."

The genius' jaw dropped. "Owe you—owe you what?"

"You _chose_ not to say goodbye to me ten years ago. You missed your chance to say goodbye to your parents, so you know that hurts. Redeem yourself, _right now_ , and give me this."

Loki could see Tony was losing his cool. Beads of sweat formed across his forehead, his jaw muscles worked as he pressed his lips together tightly. "What's the point, Loki?" he demanded weakly. "You hate me and nothing I say will change that."

"I do not hate you!" The grip on his control was slipping; and something felt very wrong about the way Tony flinched at his raised voice. "I am _angry_ with you. The fact that I _don't_ hate you proves very much that I still—"

The gravity of what was about to come out of his mouth stopped Loki cold, and he was caught, staring numbly at a stupefied Tony.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: My apologies! Didn't realize that cliffhanger would be so brutal. So, enjoy this update!**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Summary: Tony's struggling to control himself, while Loki is struggling to handle his varying emotions. And, finally, some important words are spoken.

* * *

Tony needed to get out of Loki's room. His apartment. His city. The walls were definitely closing in on him. His heart was racing, his breathing was starting to come a little faster, making him feel light-headed, and his palms, and other parts of his body, were dampening with sweat.

 _Not now, goddamn it_. He begged his body not to betray him, not to let this happen in front of Loki.

Six months had passed since he escaped captivity. But the memories were still fresh in his mind. The nightmares were still playing like old movies in his head when he managed to sleep. And the panic attacks were relentless. He still hadn't deciphered his triggers, as the therapist so charmingly called them. He would be fine one minute, then plunged into hopelessness and panic—not unlike what he felt in the cave—struggling for breath the next. He could feel it happening now, rising within him as if he was being lowered into a pool of water and it was enveloping him slowly. Loki's shout made him cringe, and for a fleeting second, echoes of voices shouting in a language he didn't know sounded in his ear.

 _Fuck!_

He felt himself trembling as everything inside him built and built toward a terrifying crescendo. But when Loki cut his words mid-rant, Tony went perfectly still. His throat too dry to speak, his only response was a faint lift of his eyebrow, and his fingers unfurling from the tight fists they had been in. Peering up from beneath dark lashes, Tony eyed Loki's face closely, watched different emotions he couldn't pinpoint play across his features. And a light bulb suddenly went off in his mind. His body began to relax even more.

Loki huffed, like he was frustrated, and pushed past Tony. "You owe me this chance to unload years of anger on you."

Tony slowly turned, following Loki's movements. "You still what?"

"What?" Loki hissed, making no move to face him.

"You still _what_?"

A beat of silence. Another, and Tony could see the tension in Loki's back. "Nothing," he muttered, shifting his body around, but still avoiding Tony's gaze.

Tony inched forward, slowly, careful not to startle Loki. "Not nothing. Tell me."

Loki huffed again, sharper this time, and Tony could now see the faint flush of his cheeks as his eyes flew up to meet his. "It doesn't matter—"

"Loki," Tony almost crooned the word, angling his head slightly.

"It's complicated, all right? And neither is it the point, Stark!"

An amused giggle bubbled up in Tony's throat, but he was able to clamp it down before it escaped him. Still, he shook his head at Loki's response. "Don't pull that 'Stark' shit on me. You've already slipped up, like, twenty times."

"It was not twenty." Loki crossed his arms, and like a petulant child, pouted at the floor, just as Tony straightened, planted his hands on his hips, smug as hell.

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?" he snapped.

"What you were gonna say."

"No."

"Why not?"

Loki flicked his eyes, and an annoyed look, Tony's way. "I told you; it's complicated."

Amused at this exchange, Tony grinned, giving a slight roll of his eyes. "Then explain it to me like I'm a five year old."

"You _are_ a five year old!" Tony jolted a little at Loki's shout, eyeing his hands as they flailed about in his exclamation. "I still care about you, you idiot! There! Are you happy now?"

The room went quiet again, but for Loki's hard breathing. Tony let his body relax, muscle by muscle, giving Loki time to calm down himself, but couldn't stop the slow curve of his lips. Loki spotted it before he could stop it and growled softly, turning away.

"Wipe that stupid smile off your face."

Knowing he was possibly risking physical harm, Tony moved even closer. "No," he said softly, with a short shake of his head. Loki pressed his lips together, tightened his arms around his middle, but avoided looking at him. "You still love me." His lips twitched, even as Loki turned those dark green eyes on him.

"I never said—"

"You didn't have to, babe." Tony grinned at the soft hiss of breath Loki released as he looked away. "You still love me."

Scoffing loudly, and grumbling under his breath, Loki shifted his whole body, turning away from Tony's bright eyes. "Against my better judgment," he muttered through slightly clenched teeth, "I just might."

His smile softening, Tony dipped his head to put himself in Loki's eyesight. "I love you, too."

* * *

Where in Hel had that come from?

Loki was completely dumbfounded by his own thoughts. His own words. He tried to ignore it, pretend he hadn't just nearly confessed his true feelings, but _damn_ that Tony. He wouldn't let Loki get away with that near slip; those three little words they both desperately needed to hear from someone, anyone, so long ago.

Loki had known for some time that he still cared for Tony; he wouldn't have scoured the newspapers and websites every day after he went missing if he hadn't felt a shred of something for him. But he hadn't realized he still loved the bastard. With every fiber of his being, he still loved that man.

And it scared the shit out of him.

He was behaving like a juvenile, deflecting and acting out—and he was completely aware of it. But allowing himself to love Tony again, letting him in once more, meant risking another broken heart. And Loki knew, the next time, he wouldn't survive it. The hate he would have for himself alone for allowing it to happen again would consume him, and he would self-destruct in spectacular fashion.

For all his efforts to resist the undeniable allure of Tony Stark, Loki thought he might have predicted they would have ended up right where they were when Tony popped up on his doorstep tonight. Right here, in his bedroom, with Loki giving in, and admitting that he still loved the genius—as much as he did before Tony disappeared on him.

The confessions and revelations they had made tonight were enough for one lifetime. But Tony finally saying those words… _I love you, too_. Gods, how Loki wanted to believe that. He was a skeptic by nature, suspicious of others motives; mostly because he didn't dole out his own time without a deliberate endgame in mind. He learned to be careful with his heart and mind. He couldn't be too careful with Tony. And while Loki may have kept tabs here and there over the years, Tony hadn't set eyes on him until tonight. He had no idea what Loki had been through outside of their relationship, and its effects. He didn't know what had led Loki to Los Angeles or even what he did for a living.

These thoughts tumbled around in his head as he studied Tony's face, noticing for the first time, the dark circles beneath his eyes. Despite that, he was smiling at Loki, setting his features alight. Still, Loki refused to give in, to show any trace of emotion in his own visage. He was standing at an extremely delicate precipice, unsure if he was ready to make that leap. His own eyes were dark, hooded, as he gazed down at Tony.

"You don't even know me," he murmured.

Tony clucked his tongue. "Wrong. I know you better than anybody." Loki scoffed at Tony's attempt to echo his earlier words. And maybe his lips curved. A little. "You're not denying it 'cause you know I'm right."

Facing Tony fully now, Loki was tall enough to look down his nose at him. "You _used_ to know me. I am not the abused little boy who needed you to rescue him."

"And I'm not the chicken shit kid who used to run away from scary emotions that you needed to rescue you," Tony countered promptly with a shrug. "People change, Loki."

Loki breathed out slowly. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, becoming overwhelmed by the moment he'd waited for-for more than ten years, he realized-and he knew with Tony standing this close, there was no way for him to hide the glistening sheen they must have had now. "I've done things that may make you change your mind about me."

That made the smug smirk finally disappear from Tony's face. Briefly. The genius' lips tilted up again, but there was no mirth, no glee to this smile. "Ditto."

 _What did that mean?_ His innate curiosity was piqued, for sure, but at the moment, his crumbling resolve took precedence. Tony Stark was seeping into his veins once again.

And, damn it, the genius knew it.

Loki breathed in sharply, under his breath, as Tony gravitated closer, easing into Loki's personal space. And started to rise up on his toes. Naturally, like a magnet, Loki leaned in, too, drawn to the force of Tony, wanting desperately to close the distance between their lips. But those little nuggets of doubt, and the screaming alarm bells in the back of his mind, stopped him just short of taking what he so desperately wanted.

"I can't…"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So...this *might* be the last chapter that's already all typed up. I've got 4 more that are mostly just outlines, that haven't been completely fleshed out yet. Chapter 12 is about half done. But I will get on that and hopefully won't make you wait too long. I've been distracted with all kinds of plot bunnies lately and have a few of works in progress (a Crimson Peak one-shot and a fluffy thing that may or may not be connected to the Picture Perfect series 'verse, plus a couple of other FrostIron and WinterFrost fics). So enjoy this update.**

 **And, as always, your thoughts are always welcome.**

 **-xoxo, La**

* * *

Summary: Declarations of love do nothing to sooth Loki's concerns. So Tony makes strides to appease him, and for a chance to make amends. Whatever it takes.

* * *

Tony was feeling pretty good right now. He was exhausted as hell because of the stress coming at him from all areas of his life—struggling with post traumatic stress and lack of sleep, dealing with the media that was constantly hounding him, and keeping Stark Industries running on top of it all. The trip out to LA to see Loki was no exception. But now that he was here…and had just gotten Loki to admit he still loved him…

Sure, they still had a long way to go, and by no means would the road ahead be easy. _If_ that was what Loki wanted. Tony was getting ahead of himself, though the prospect alone was enough to have him smiling, genuinely, for the first time in months. He found it almost laughable that Loki would think he didn't realize things were different now. That _they_ were different now. They weren't teenagers anymore, sneaking around their dorms, living off pizza, beer, the high of life, and rushing out of class just to get back to whomever's room was closest, competing to see who could give the other the bigger, better orgasm.

Good times.

No…this wasn't college. Tony knew this time, if Loki gave him the chance, it would be different. It wouldn't just be about sex—though, he wouldn't lie, he hoped there would be plenty of it. They were adults now. Feelings and emotions were involved—which was unfortunate for two people who weren't great at expressing such feelings and emotions. And they existed on both sides—even if Loki didn't want to believe him yet.

So he would show the beautiful beanpole with his actions. He had his foot in the door, that much he knew. But Loki was still hesitant; as was he, if he was honest. Talking about how one felt was intimidating and scary like that. Tony moved in slow, letting them both get used to each other again. Loki smelled amazing, like soap and and a scent that made Tony think of a meadow, or a countryside. It was distracting and familiar, and only added to the electricity that seemed to sizzle between them, around them.

When Loki broke the intimate moment, it felt like a punch to the gut for Tony. He remained completely still as Loki moved around him to drop to the edge of the bed again. It was an effort not to groan out loud and Tony had to let the sting of rejection pass before he moved to face Loki.

"You can't what?"

Loki was rubbing his hands over his face and stopped, glancing up at Tony with red-rimmed, tired eyes. "I cannot let this be so easy for you. To just…slither your way back into my heart."

Tony lowered to the bed beside him, careful not touch him or jostle the bed. "Did I ever really leave it?"

"Yes," he answered softly with a short nod. "Quite willingly, actually."

 _Ouch_. "Loki," he sighed, "I was a stupid kid. And I did a stupid thing. But if we want to move past this—even just as individuals—you…you can't hold onto that anger. You have to find a way to forgive me. Even if it's just for your own good."

He rushed to continue on as Loki looked away from him.

"I know it probably doesn't make any difference now, and I know I'm late, and I know I don't deserve it, but…I love you, Loki. I didn't come here to tell you that. I didn't. I was gonna take it to my grave. But I'm glad you know now. Because even if we don't…" Shaky anyway, his voice failed him for a moment. "If we don't end up staying together, you should know that someone, somewhere, loves you. And I will…even if you're not with me." His voice was reduced to a choked up whisper now.

Loki couldn't look at him. He kept his eyes down, his fingers toying with a stray piece of thread in the hem of his shirt, but Tony could see the small tremble of his chin. The silence stretched and with each second that passed, Tony grew more anxious.

Finally, Loki hummed quietly, and sniffled. "I never thought I'd hear those words coming from you."

Tony inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly. "…I know…"

"I never thought I'd set eyes on you again."

"…I know…"

"And I have no bloody idea how to handle all of this right now."

Tony nodded again, keeping his eyes on Loki's hands. "…I know."

The sound of fabric rustling as Loki turned his head was piercing in the quiet. " _No_." Tony's eyes were wide when they met Loki's razor sharp gaze. "You don't."

* * *

Loki had always had a way with words.

Flowery poetic words could flow from his lips one moment, and the next he could cut a man down with no less than a few words. Anyone who could go toe-to-toe with him, keep up with his quick wit, and handle his sarcastic quips, instantly became his friend. It was one of the reasons he and Bucky had rekindled their friendship. The latter never said much, but with Loki, there was a comfort level that allowed him to open up a little bit more than with anyone else, bar Steve. Tony was no slouch in this department either. He was one of the only people that could actually get into a verbal battle with Loki—and, occasionally, win.

That Loki had now rendered Tony silent with just two words spoke volumes.

He knew his viridian eyes had gone dark and turned stone cold. He must have looked a right villain, if the way Tony stared at him, eyes a little too wide, face a little too pale, were any indication.

"You have no idea what I've been through because of you. You don't know what it was like after you left; when every single person who knew about us looked at me like the fool I was, pitying me, silently telling me I got what I deserved."

Tony's lips parted but nothing came out.

"You don't know how many tears I shed. After you left, and then again when you were lost. Not knowing if you were dead or being tortured or if you'd ever be seen again. And h-how relieved I was when you returned." His voice began to rise, cracking with emotion. Inhibitions gone, Loki let the tears spill over and roll down his cheeks. "Even if I was still angry with you…"

Pausing to catch his breath, he had to look away once Tony's eyes began to fill. As a distraction he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling and doing his damndest to stop the tears from forming. Once he had most of his tears under control, Loki blew out a long breath, blinking his puffy eyes.

"And now that you're here, _physically_ here, I...I am so conflicted."

"Why?" It broke his heart to hear Tony's voice that small, so full of shame. He turned his head to look at him again, his lips, reddened and slightly swollen, ticked up in a small grin.

"Because…there is some dark, twisted part of me that would really like to finish that kiss."

Tony's breath caught in his throat, something between a gasp and laugh forcing it out on a cough. "Well, what about the rest of you?"

"The rest of me? Wants to slap you silly." Tony snorted, swiping a hand over his eyes, and Loki breathed a chuckle, relieved at the lighter emotions. Quietly, Tony slipped his hand into Loki's.

"I wouldn't stop you from doing either of those, you know."

Loki had to force himself not to yank his hand away, simply from the now foreign feeling of someone holding his hand. He couldn't remember the last time he was this close to anyone; he had closed himself off emotionally so completely from everyone but Bucky and Steve. Even Natasha had a hard time getting a good read on him some days. He grinned, thinking it had probably been killing her that she didn't know what was going on behind his bedroom door. "Well, that would take some of the enjoyment out of slapping you then, would it not?"

"Yeah, I guess." A beat of quiet passed, both of them watching as their fingers slid together and apart, their palms—one rough and calloused, the other smooth as silk—brushed together. Then, finally, Tony lifted his head, his eyes to Loki's. "I am sorry, Loki. I never meant to hurt you the way I did."

Loki's response was another sniffle and a deep sigh. "Your intentions were never a part of the equation, Anthony. You've always been impulsive. You rarely stop to think about consequences or how your actions may affect others. As do I—sometimes. It's one of the many things we have in common. At the time, I just thought you…went away for a day or two. I thought you…" He shook his head at his own thoughts. "It doesn't matter anymore. Though it all makes a bit more sense now, knowing Howard was involved. Still…I, I don't know how…" He lowered his eyes again, to their joined hands.

"You don't trust me anymore."

Loki's fingers reflexively tightened and he slowly pulled his hand from Tony's grasp. The words had been spoken in his head, but he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud. Irritation, with himself, with his irrational—or were they valid?—feelings, had his face pinching into a frown. "I don't…how am I expected to, Anthony? How am I to know you will still be around next week? Next month? Next year? You run at the first hint of trouble or uneasiness. Your track record, even apart from me, is not all that great."

It was Tony's turn to sigh as he got to his feet, pacing for a moment before he faced Loki again. "What am I supposed to do, then, Loki?" Loki parted his lips to speak, but he had nothing to say. "You can't keep punishing me for that. Not anymore than I punish myself. But I'm at your mercy here. What do I have to do?" He moved quickly to Loki's side again, dropping beside him, and leaning toward him, eyes pleading. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"I, I don't kn…oh." Tony grabbed for his hands, holding them between his.

"You said, earlier, that you didn't want to see me again. If that's still how you feel…" Loki watched Tony's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and he felt a tightening in his chest as the words he'd said replayed in his mind. "Then I'll leave. I'll go back to New York and…I'll let you be."

Loki's fingers curled around Tony's when the genius' voice cracked, his name but a whisper on his lips.

"I just don't want…I don't want to hurt you anymore. You don't deserve all this, Loki. You deserve to be happy. Even if…if it's not with me."

Struck silent, he was unable to form a coherent thought. That had to be difficult for Tony to say. And the maturity it took to admit it was not lost on him either. Tony shifted, and Loki briefly caught sight of the protrusion under his shirt, and wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Chin trembling, he swallowed back the emotion clogging his throat. "I don't want you to go…" he managed.

Tony's brows lifted high. "Really?"

Doubt settled in quickly. "But I don't know that you deserve to stay."

Tony all but deflated. "Right," he moodily agreed. It was almost comical.

"I know there are issues I need to address myself. But…you have an awful lot for which to make up, Anthony."

Tony turned toward him, hope lighting up his eyes again. "Then give me the chance to do it. Come on. You know you want to give me another chance." Loki's eye instantly narrowed, but his lips curved simultaneously. "Don't deny it. You wouldn't have let me in here if there wasn't the tiniest, teeniest part of you that wanted to give me a chance."

"Gods, you're arrogant," he scoffed, stiffening a little when Tony scooted closer, once again leaning into his personal space.

"You like that about me."

Loki smirked, murmured, "Once upon a time, I did…"

"Then tell me. What can I do? I know I can't fix this with a snap of my fingers or make some stupid promise you wouldn't believe from me anyway. But there has to be something."

Loki watched him, head tilting to the side. He honestly didn't know what Tony could do or say. The man was right, though; Loki wouldn't trust any promises made tonight—from either of them. So how was Tony supposed to regain his trust? As he pondered, once again, Loki's eyes dropped to Tony's chest, studying the bump in the center of it. "Will you show me?" Though it was proposed as a question, there was a trace of demand in Loki's tone.

The way those brown eyes darkened and zoomed onto his mouth, made Loki's stomach do a flip. "Show you what?"

He straightened and jerked his chin, motioning with it and his eyes. "Your light."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Enjoy :D**

 **-xoxo**

* * *

Summary: Tony puts his trust in Loki, and fights his vulnerability.

* * *

Tony remembered the day Howard had stopped trusting him. An inopportune moment to recall such a memory, but he recognized the look in Loki's eyes. He'd been young then. A child, under ten, and he'd gotten caught in Howard's workshop in the mansion. Numerous, explicit warnings had been given to stay out of there, but his curiosity got the better of him that day. The young Stark had poked around quietly for awhile, until he stumbled upon an abandoned project of Howard's. And tried to fix it. With a soldering iron. And accidentally started a small fire.

Howard was able to put it out in time, but the lecture Tony had gotten was lengthy, harsh, and ended with a soul-crushing, " _I'm very disappointed in you, Tony._ "

No kid liked to hear that from a parent. And Tony heard it more than most, he'd wager. Mostly, though, Tony remembered the look on Howard's face as he said those words to him. His chestnut eyes had gone blank, cold, with only a hint of something Tony couldn't decipher then. He damn sure could identify it now. Loki's eyes and expression had triggered that memory, because they held the same trace of dismay Howard's had. And Tony felt that same heap of shame Howard made him feel.

Tony wasn't one to make empty promises. He knew if Loki really didn't want to see him again, he wouldn't make any effort to try. He might check up on Loki, occasionally, through his own means, but he wouldn't contact him again. He didn't want to give Loki that space, but if it's what he needed to mend this hurt, Tony would do it. For him.

But then… A smile, a little flirting, and a spark of hope was ignited in the genius. Loki didn't want to let him go. He would struggle with trust, for awhile, maybe. But Tony could work with that.

He waited for an answer, prepared to work for this, his gaze drawn to Loki's mouth. He had such a fascinating mouth; thin lips that curled to the right when he spoke with passion, that turned bright red with the excessive biting and licking from habit. They often tasted like the cherry-flavored lip balm Loki used back in college. Tony wondered if they still had that taste.

"What?" he murmured distractedly, his brain taking a moment to catch up with Loki's request. "My…?" Understanding now what Loki was asking, Tony's hand moved directly to his chest, almost protectively, as he leaned away. "W…why?"

Loki laid a hand on the bed, leaning his weight on it, as he gave a light shrug. "Well, I admit, I am curious. But, also because…" His eyes dropped to Tony's hand and the genius' fingers curled into his shirt. "It's a part of you now. Yes?"

Tony was stunned. That he realized he was nervous to show Loki the reactor only made him more anxious. And hesitant. Typically, he didn't walk around showing it off to anybody. He knew people were interested in the technology, but this one time Tony had kept the details to himself. Still, this was Loki asking, and despite his initial reluctance, he found himself agreeing anyway, nodding. Loki sat back, waiting, hands folded neatly in his lap. He looked like a schoolboy awaiting a treat.

Turning so his back was to Loki, Tony slowly removed his t-shirt and the long-sleeved shirt beneath it, leaving him in just a black tank. Steeling himself, taking a couple of deep, steadying breaths, he tugged that tank over his head as well, then shifted back around to face Loki. Feeling extremely exposed, Tony remained completely still, head turned away, fingers twisting in the material of his shirts in his lap. His eyes lowered as he struggled not to curl into himself, to hide. A sharp gasp escaped him, his body jerking, when Loki touched his fingers to his chest, just beside the metal circle.

"I'm sorry!" Loki jolted back as if he'd just touched fire. "Is it, is it sensitive?"

"No," Tony managed on a soft chuckle. "Your…your fingers are cold."

"Oh." Tony watched Loki relax, relief washed across his pale face. Loki lowered his hand to his thigh, rubbing his fingers over the material of his pants, warming them. "I'm sorry," he muttered again.

Taking a small amount of pity on him, Tony reached out to grab Loki by the wrist and brought his hand to his chest again. He forced himself to relax, to get used to someone touching him like this. Intimacy wasn't something Tony ever eagerly sought out. And now, with this contraption in his chest, it was something he actively avoided.

"Is that the… _it_ , or your heart?"

"It's called an arc reactor. The vibration is from it, not me. It's…a magnet. An electromagnet. The blast…" His voice wavered as Loki's fingers gently traced the skin around the reactor. "The blast that knocked me out—it left pieces of shrapnel around my heart. This is keeping that shrapnel from getting into it, and…well, it's keeping me alive."

Loki lowered his hand, his eyes going soft, as he pulled his hand away from Tony completely. "Does it hurt?"

Tony pondered that for a moment, then shook his head. "No. It's a pain in the ass, and…it gets snagged on my shirts sometimes, but…no." He looked at his shirts and snickered softly. "Pep's resorted to cutting a hole for me in the t-shirts I wear at home, around the lab. But I don't…I don't like anyone to see it. They already stare at me, anyway…" He was mumbling, rambling. He'd never shared any of this, never spoke of it with anyone, and while there was a sense of relief, Tony was also feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"Has _anyone_ seen it?" Loki questioned softly. Tony shook his head, but still didn't meet his gaze.

"Just you. And Pep. She, she helped me out a lot. After." He looked up, at Loki, for the first time since he removed his shirt, but glanced down again, when Loki tightened his fingers around his. He hadn't realized their hands had, somehow, linked once more. He looked up again, and their eyes met, and Tony felt the punch of it, straight to his gut. He started to lean in, lips curving just a notch on one side.

They weren't in the living room this time. The apartment was empty. There would be no interruptions. Tony gave a mental fist pump and leaned in, his lips parting just before he reached Loki's mouth.

* * *

Loki hadn't expected Tony to comply. Now that he had, he felt a tad guilty, which he appeased by telling himself if Tony didn't want to show him, he wouldn't have. He watched, patiently, as Tony removed his shirts, anticipation making his fingers wring together in his lap. His eyes went wide as they roamed over Tony's back. It could have been worse, but the scarred over burns and healed cuts were still a shock.

He held his breath as Tony began to turn, letting it out slowly, staring at the blue light embedded in Tony's chest.

Loki was boggled by the fact that this piece of metal was keeping Tony alive. Perhaps, someday, he would garner the courage to ask Tony about the whole ordeal. The kidnapping, the cave, the weapons. The escape. He imagined Tony's eyes lighting up as explained the science of his invention.

All thoughts of conversation and talking vanished from Loki's thoughts when their gazes met. His cheeks warmed instantly, and he felt that heat spread down his neck, to his chest. His entire body felt warm. Before he could stop to think about it—or, rather, overthink it—he started to lean in. Tony's lips just touched his, the genius' full lips gently catching Loki's bottom lip between them. He felt the swell in his chest, the tremble that rippled through his entire body, and slid closer, his hand itching to touch that bearded chin, that rough cheek, to slide through those dark tresses. Instead, he pressed his mouth more firmly to Tony's.

 _Gods_ , this felt right. To be right here, with Tony; to feel those lush lips against his again. Damn his broken heart. Damn his hurt feelings. This; this could be his cure-all. He could almost feel the broken pieces of his heart sliding back into place.

 _What if…?_

What if Tony was the only one who could fix what he'd broken in the first place? What if Tony really was his soulmate? Did he even believe in soulmates?

 _Not the time, Loki._

Moving even closer now, Loki gave in to his wants and raised a hand, first, to Tony's chest, bare and smooth, then made a trail up to his cheek, pulling the genius more against him, angling his head to deepen the kiss. A decade had passed and Tony tasted the same, smelled the same, in the heat of arousal. How had he remembered that? Other questions came to Loki's mind, but the moment that velvety tongue of Tony's slid passed his teeth, licking into his mouth, Loki moved on instinct, and was practically in Tony's lap. One long leg wrapped possessively around Tony's, his lips now demanding more, as Loki pressed his weight onto him.

His eyes fluttered open as Tony shifted them both, and suddenly he was on his back, Tony's lips the more aggressive now. But he had yet to settle on top of Loki—where Loki wanted him. Curling his fingers into the denim at his hips, Loki not only pulled Tony down to rest on him, but parted his legs to allow him to do so with more ease. Tony slowly lowered himself, mouth never parting from Loki's, and settled against him. Instinctively, Loki lifted his hips to meet Tony's, breaking the kiss, losing himself in a pleasure he hadn't felt in years. A pleasure he didn't realize he'd been craving for so long.

A small broken whine escaped him, and broke the relative silence of their muted, panting breaths. As if some silent permission had been given to make noises of his own, a low growl rumbled from deep in Tony's chest as he latched onto Loki's throat, teeth grazing along the line of it, before his tongue followed. Loki could _feel_ Tony's arousal now. Need and desire clawed at him; pooled, hot and deep, in the pit of his belly. His long legs slid along Tony's, his fingers dug into the skin of Tony's back, dragging up into his dark hair. Tony, busy feasting on Loki's pale flesh up to this point, came searching for his mouth again. He moaned softly, into Loki's mouth, and the other's long, lanky arms wound around his neck.

Loki wanted to smile. It just felt so damn good. So lost was he in the feel of Tony's hands slipping beneath his thin shirt to grab possessively at him, to brush his thumbs over already hardened nipples, that he almost missed what sounded like the front door pushing open. Tony's hands were in his hair now, caressing his face, as his eyes opened and he strained to listen for other telltale sounds that Bucky and Steve had returned. Hands gliding down Loki's sides now, Tony's fingers were inching down between his legs.

The door closed; keys faintly jingled as they hit the table. Loki closed his eyes again, and gripped Tony's wrist just as he palmed his groin, halting any further movement. Tony went still, keeping his head in its place buried in the crook of Loki's neck

"What?" he questioned, voice deep and cracking. A thumb traced the line of Loki's jaw.

Loki's heart was still racing, his breathing still coming fast, and damn it, he was hard as a rock. "Nothing," he muttered.

"Then why…?"

Voices, deep and male, were heard clearly, and Tony pushed up onto his fists to look down at Loki, questioning with just his eyes. Frustrated with himself, and his reaction, Loki released Tony's wrist, and started to try to explain, his lips parting only to close again when Steve shouted out to him from somewhere in the hallway.

 _"Loki, we're back early! Can Buck have some of that pasta on the stove?"_

Loki felt Tony tense up, and the frown on his face all but confirmed his change of mood. _Shit_ , was all he could think as Tony moved off of him.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So the general consensus I'm getting from the last chapter is "Damn you, Steve and Bucky!" Which makes me laugh. Anyway...only two more chapters after this, so let's see how things work out. :)**

 **-xoxo**

* * *

Summary: Tony and Loki both misread the other's actions after Steve's interruption; and both find themselves repeating words and thoughts from earlier in the evening.

* * *

Their lips had barely touched, but it was enough to send a million little sparks rippling along Tony's skin, a hot spear of desire straight down his spine. He applauded himself, mentally, for his amazing resistance, for not pouncing on Loki right then and there. But he was still hesitant, not wanting to come on too strong, and make Loki back off.

Tony hadn't expected this. Whatever he wanted to accomplish when he came up on Loki's doorstep tonight, he'd never dreamed it would lead to this. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to get back on good terms with Loki, but if the way Loki had dragged him on top of him told him anything, it was that they were obviously on the same page. The sounds Loki made at his touch, his kiss, only served to give his desire a boost. It was all happening so fast. Tony had gone instantly hard, and the sinful way Loki moved against him wasn't helping matters.

His disappointment was fierce when Loki broke the kiss. Immediately, he knew it was his fault, that he had overstepped. Tony cursed at himself for rushing into this. Of course, it was too soon. _Always thinking with the wrong goddamn head_ , he scolded himself, looking to Loki questioningly. But then…

 _"Loki, we're back! Can Buck have some of that pasta on the stove?"_

 _Oh_. That familiar feeling of rejection slammed into him, making his stomach drop. Embarrassed and annoyed, Tony climbed off of Loki. He sat at the foot of the bed, dejected, and promptly tugged his tank and two shirts over his head. He heard Loki sigh, as if _he'd_ been the one put out, and felt the bed move as he rose and walked to the door.

"Yes, Steven. There's enough for you both." Steve said something back, but Tony couldn't make it out with all the repetitions of _fucking idiot_ running through his head. After a brief conversation, Loki murmured a good night to Steve and closed the door, and still Tony sat, silently fuming.

"Is that why you stopped me?" he asked, before Loki had returned to the bed.

Loki stilled, frowned. "What?"

"Because they came back. Is that why you stopped me?" Tony's irritation only grew when Loki laughed and he shot to his feet. "Look, I know I haven't been around like they have, so they're closer to you. And maybe they mean a lot to you. Cool, fine. Whatever. But if they're gonna be a reason why you second guess us—"

"Wait a minute." Loki threw a hand up, and Tony's teeth ground together. "First of all, yes, both Steven and James are important to me. They are my closest friends. But that is beside the point. Anthony, I don't…I don't know that there is an us." Tony sucked in a breath. " _Yet_ ," he clarified, moving closer. He scoffed lightly. "You claim to know me so well. How often have I ever let anyone else's feelings influence my own? I do what I want, no matter what. Saying that, any reservations that I may have about going forward, with you, are my own."

A skitter of panic made Tony's stomach jump, a derisive noise escaping past his lips, but he made himself go rigid when Loki lifted a hand to his cheek. "What…what reservations?"

"Oh, darling…you are, quite likely, the person I am meant to be with." Loki dropped his hand to Tony's chest, resting just beside the reactor, hidden now, beneath the layers of his shirts. "The one with whom I should spend the rest of my life. But you're also the only person who can break me so completely. With a word. With a look. With…absolute silence."

Tony didn't move, even as Loki moved around him, taking a moment to absorb Loki's words. If there was anything he was certain of right now, it was that some part of Loki—a big part, he would guess—wanted him, as much as he wanted Loki. Physical intimacy aside. So what exactly was the problem? Clearing his throat of the emotion that had started to build up, he turned around to find Loki wandering in his own room, beside his bed.

"Answer me one question, Loki: what do you _want_?"

Loki's shoulders rose and fell as he breathed in deep and spun around, rubbing a hand at his neck. "It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is," Tony insisted.

"No. It is not, Anthony. You don't know what I've been through."

"And you don't know what _I've_ been through!" It took all of Tony's strength not to scream bloody murder, and instead groaned in frustration, hands fisting together. He missed out; he got the message. "Just…forget about all that. Forget Bucky, forget Steve, forget Afghanistan, forget what happened ten years ago, just forget everything. And tell me what you want."

Loki shook his head. "I can't _just forget everything_. And neither can you."

"Why not?" Tony cringed at the way his voice rose.

"Because that is our history, Anthony! It is what has shaped us, made us who we are. Without everything we've been through, together and apart, no matter how we wish we could change it, we…," he gestured between them, "…would not be the men that stand here, face-to-face, right now."

"I get that, okay? I get it. I…just…Jesus." He sighed, weary from the different directions this night was spinning off to, and pushed his hands through his hair then scrubbing them over his face. "You know, I fucked up years ago. 'Cause I couldn't see what was right in front of my face." He motioned a hand in Loki's direction. Loki visibly softened.

"Anthony. You can't blame yourself for that. Neither can you believe it. You weren't attracted to other men before me. Or even after me. How would you know that you—"

"It's not about other men, Loki." Tony stepped into his space again, his gaze hard and determined, his voice low and serious. "Just you." He saw Loki swallow thickly and closed the distance between them some more. "And you're still forgetting one thing."

His slim black brows rose in question, his eyes never leaving Tony's.

"You're that person for me, too."

* * *

Loki was seriously starting to wonder if Steve and Bucky had some kind of sixth sense. Any other night, Loki would bet Bucky, drunk or not, would eat any food left out without question, and make up for it by cooking a little extra of whatever he made next. That's how it worked with roommates. Even with their significant others. Heaving a sigh, because he expected Tony was as irritated as he, he pushed himself up and moved to the door. Steve wasn't standing directly in front of it, but he called out to him anyway, and the blond's head popped out from the kitchen.

"Thanks," he said with a smile. "Bucky's kind of…" he glanced behind him. "Tanked. I figure the pasta might sober him up a little. Everything…still good?"

"Fine, thank you. Get him some water. Good night." Steve gave a nod, a salute, and ducked back into the kitchen. Loki closed the door, and took a moment to adjust himself before he faced Tony.

And his questions.

Loki was staggered by Tony's indignation. And his accusations. And now he was repeating himself. He knew he sounded like a broken record, but how would he know that Tony understood if he didn't say it explicitly. As much as Tony admitted that he was scared to tell Loki that he was in love with him ten years ago, Loki was equally scared to hand himself, and his heart, over to a man who could crush both so easily.

" _You're that person for me, too."_

Tony was full of surprises tonight. That was a shock to hear, and he was sure that's exactly what could be seen on his face, but Loki quickly dismissed Tony's words, finding no truth in them. "I don't have that kind of power over you, Anthony."

"Oh, the hell you don't, Loki." Loki had started to move around him again, but Tony took him by the arms, keeping him right where he was. "Were you not listening before?" He blinked, taken aback, again, by the passion with which Tony spoke. "You were my saving grace in that damn cave."

Loki's lashes fluttered as he tried to blink away the stinging in his eyes.

"You didn't know it, but you got me through it. It was _you_ I thought of when I needed to be strong. It was your voice I heard when I needed the motivation to keep fighting. It was your face…" Tony cupped Loki's face and his breath caught in his throat. "Your beautiful, pale face that I saw when I needed…peace."

A soft sob escaped Loki, after holding it in too long, and Tony brought their faces closer together. Loki's hands came up to wrap around Tony's wrists, their foreheads touching.

"You brought me back from the brink of death, Loki. Who says you couldn't take me there, too? You absolutely have that power over me."

"Anthony…" He didn't know what more to say. Tony had rendered him speechless. His heart both ached and swelled.

"Tell me, what you want."

"I…I want you to stay," Loki managed between short breaths and halting stutters. "I want _you_." Tony leaned up to kiss him. His lips had just touched Loki's before it all—all the emotions, the heavy feelings—got to him and he lifted his mouth. "I also need you to give me time."

Tony stared, open-mouthed for a moment. "Time for what?"

He slipped out of Tony's hold. And shrugged. "To…adjust. You've said yourself that you have dated since we were together. But…I haven't. I've not been in a relationship in quite some time. I do love you, Anthony. And I do want to be with you. But I don't want to rush into it. We both do things often without thinking or in the heat of the moment. We started that way. I don't want us to do that here, now. And I don't want our relationship to revolve around sex—like it did before."

Tony nodded and slipped his hands into his back pockets. "Right. Okay. Learn from our mistakes. I can get behind that. But…uh, so, will that happen eventually? The sex, I mean…"

Loki ran a sleeved hand over his eyes, and snickered softly. "Well, let's be honest. That part, for us, was never really…difficult."

Again, he nodded, and grinned. "You were gonna say hard, weren't you?" Loki groaned, with a smile, and Tony laughed. "I'm kidding. No, seriously. What else? What else do you need from me? What do we need to do to get past this?"

Back to the subject now, Loki sighed and dropped to the bed. "I don't know. There is so much, Anthony. There is so much to put behind us. Where do we start? Do we sit and overanalyze everything? Do we discuss where we go from here or do we just…go? I...I don't—" He stopped himself, a thought coming to mind. "Wait. Let's start with the fact that you don't even live here. You live three thousand miles away, on the opposite end of the country."

Tony inhaled deeply, and wandered back toward the desk, leaning against it. "Well…"

The way he stretched out the word, and the way his lips curved, had Loki's eyes narrowing. "What?"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, first off, I know there were some comments asking to confirm some stuff. I wasn't ignoring anyone, I just didn't want to give anything away. Second, there's only one chapter left, but I haven't finished it yet. I'm going to try to get it done tomorrow, so let's hope I do! Hope you still like it. :D**

 **-xoxo**

* * *

Summary: An unintentional proposal leads to more revelations from Loki—that leave Tony at a loss for words.

* * *

Loki was damn lucky Tony loved him. How many people would put up with all this stress just to be with one person? Yes, admittedly, that wasn't originally why he had come to find Loki, but his emotions were all over the place tonight. Which was stressful and a pain in the ass. Not unlike his time spent in captivity. And now he had to spell it out just how Loki was the one who got him out of that cave. Had he not been clear before? At any rate, Loki knew now; the tears told Tony so. And, still, the theme of the night seemed to be _so close, yet so far_.

They were making strides together now, aiming for the same goal, so Tony shouldn't really complain. On the plus side, he found that getting Loki to laugh, even a little bit, was a big step in the right direction. He was ready to jump over any hurdles, through any hoops, that Loki launched his way. Though, he was a little bummed about the sex thing, he supposed he could survive. For a little while, at least.

A thought came to mind as Loki brought up the first obstacle to them being together. He'd almost completely forgotten about it; months had passed since he and Pepper had sat down with the lawyers to process Howard and Maria's wills.

"You know, obviously, that my old man was loaded," he started. Loki snorted and it made Tony smile. "Right. So…" He pushed up from the desk, moving to the foot of Loki's bed, setting a knee on it before lowering to sit. "Turns out, Howie was holding out on me."

Loki looked confused. "What do you mean? How so?"

"Well, apparently Stark Senior didn't just invest in electronics and weapons." They both tensed a little at the mention of the weapons. Tony cleared his throat and moved on. "Seems Howie also invested in property."

"Property?" Loki questioned with a raised brow.

"Yup. So…in addition to the house in the suburbs, the one I grew up in, which was actually in Maria's name, Howie also had a penthouse in Manhattan, an large estate on the coast of Italy—for Maria, of course."

"Of course," Loki replied cautiously. Tony could tell he was having trouble piecing this together. Or maybe he was getting it right off the bat.

"Then there was the villa in the south of France, a cottage in London, and…" He couldn't help but smirk at Loki. "Last, but not least, a mansion in Malibu."

Several seconds ticked by with Loki staring blankly at him. Finally, he shook his head and chuckled shortly. "Wait. Are you serious? You have a home in Malibu? Malibu, California?"

Tony shrugged. "I do now. I've never seen it, mind you, but the pictures are nice. Big, multi-level behemoth, sitting on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Only house for miles around. Kinda picturesque. I guess Howie's good taste was firmly rooted in interior decorating only." He laughed, softly and shortly, at his own joke. "What?"

Loki was staring again. "Am I missing something here? You're saying you've inherited these homes all over the world, but…your work, your life is in New York."

"My life is wherever I want it to be, Loki." Inching forward, Tony crawled closer to Loki, swinging his legs around to the ground, settling before the raven-haired man, keeping his eyes lowered. "You know, before I was…um, some time last year, Howard started putting his plans to work to build a Stark Industries facility out here on the West Coast, for business purposes. They broke ground right before I…ahem. Was taken." His voice lowered on his final word.

A cool hand came to rest on his cheek. Loki said nothing, and Tony had the feeling he was waiting for him to look up at him. So, he did. "What are you trying to tell me, Anthony? Do you want me to pack up my things and move with you to Malibu?"

His lips curved into a soft smile. It wasn't his initial thought, but… "Well, maybe. What would you say if that's what I was asking?"

Loki grinned thinly, dropped his hand. "I would say…I can't."

* * *

Howard Stark had been an extremely wealthy businessman for most of his adult life; Loki knew that well. Laufey would often criticize the father of his best friend—a man he had never exchanged one word with in all the years their sons had been friends—calling him a fat cat and a corporate whore, amongst other colorful things. Loki assumed it was out of jealousy; Laufey was a blue-collar worker who had married a woman who came from an upper class family. He labored hard, at several jobs, to give her a life like that in which she had grown up—and, consequently, in marrying Laufey, she had given up. Unlike Tony's charmed upbringing, Loki's little family of three often struggled, but they had always managed to scrape by.

Apparently, Loki hadn't _really_ known just how wealthy the Starks were. He expected Tony's inheritance would have been substantial, from both Howard and Maria's sides; but he hadn't expected the multitude of dwellings around the globe. Including the one that just happened to be less than thirty-five miles away from his own home. However, as much as the idea of jumping into bed with Tony tonight was, moving into any kind of living situation so soon after reconnecting would, to a similar extent, be a rash decision. And already coming to his mind were reasons why he shouldn't.

The disappointed look on Tony's face, though; that was unbearable.

" _My_ life is here, darling," he said with a small grin, unaware of how easily the endearment had slipped in. "I am able to walk to the theatre where I work every day. My friends, who are my family and the only source of support I have, are here. And James' shop is on the corner, where I help out sometimes."

Tony's pout altered into a curious expression. "Bucky's shop?"

"Yes. The tattoo shop on the corner? He owns it. I fill in as an assistant of sorts when I can. Taking calls, making appointments, and such."

"Are you also a guinea pig?"

Loki laughed. "A what?" His laughter died as Tony reached for his left wrist, pulling it closer to him, and shoved up the sleeve. Loki's lips pressed together firmly, surprised Tony had noticed his tattoo. But when he looked at the genius' face, his jaw had dropped, and Loki affectionately grinned. People rarely realized just how much skin that particular tattoo covered, especially since Loki rarely wore anything that bared his arms above the elbow. As it was, all Tony could see were the extensive details of a scaly tale swirling around his forearm.

"What is this? A snake?"

He allowed Tony to twist and turn his arm, inspecting, trying to find the other end. "A serpent, actually. Jörmungand, to be exact." Tony flicked his eyes up and Loki gave an awkward shrug. "A-ancestral thing," he explained lamely.

Tony straightened, unable to push Loki's sleeve up any further than his elbow. "How far does it go up? Where does it end?"

He chuckled, anxiously, and pulled down his sleeve to cover his hand again. "Uh, all the way up. It winds around my entire arm and shoulder and comes over my chest. The head is…here." He placed his open palm against his left pectoral.

Tony's eyes followed every movement of his hand, squinting to get a closer look. He couldn't. "Let me see."

"Why?"

"Ha, why not?" Loki didn't answer. "Do you have others?" Still for a moment, Loki gave a nod. "How many?"

"Erm…" He glanced down at one arm then the other, then his lap. "Including the serpent…nine."

" _Nine?_ " Tony's eyes nearly bugged out. "Well, let me see 'em." Again, Loki made no move to show Tony anything. Tony tilted his head. "Hey, I showed you mine." He tapped a finger twice to the arc reactor and grinned. "Now show me yours."

 _Damn it_. That was a fair point. Too fair for Loki to ignore. Moving quite slowly, he tucked one arm into his shirt, then the other, and carefully tugged it over his head. He kept the soft, green garment bundled in his lap, over his right hand. He wasn't normally shy to show off his ink, when asked, but it would be different with Tony. His reaction would be different.

He sat there, giving Tony time to take it all in—at least, to take in the tattoos that were visible to him. The most obvious of which was the one of Jörmungand. It was in varying shades of blacks, greens, and golds, winding around his thin, but muscular arm. The head, jaws open in a silent roar, red tongue lashing out, took up a good portion of the left side of his chest. Tony angled his head, touching a hand lightly to Loki's right arm, and he obligingly turned so he could get a look at the emblem of theatre masks in the form of skulls, black and gray, with red accents, surrounded by the words _Laugh Now, Cry Later_ on his right bicep.

"Did Bucky do all this?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "He's quite talented. Steven has helped him with some of the drawings and outlines from the start, and he provided a lot of the samples displayed on the walls and in the books. But, James has become quite a proficient artist himself." He was rambling; words were tumbling out of his mouth. "The shop is doing quite well, actually; well enough that he and Steven are thinking of purchasing a home and marrying next year, when Steven completes his army service."

Tony made an impressed face but said nothing else on the subject. "Where are the other ones?" Loki hesitated again, briefly, before turning his back to Tony, showing him the side view of a black raven, wings spread, across his left shoulder blade. He shivered slightly when Tony brushed his fingers over the wings. "Wow…nice."

Righting himself, Loki bent over to lift the legs of his loose-fitting pants, and Tony lowered down to a knee on the floor, his mouth still hanging open. "That is James' own design of a rising phoenix." He pointed to the black, red, and gold design of a phoenix rising from a bed of black and red flames that encircled his right calf.

"Damn, that's kick ass," Tony murmured.

Loki grinned softly, then pushed his pant leg down and put forward his left leg. "And, obviously, those are flames." The flames seemed to emit from Loki's ankle, starting in deep reds and oranges and bled into cooler blues and purples.

"Those are really nice. Bucky does good work." Tony spoke his complimentary words and moved to sit on the bed again." What about the other ones?"

Loki dropped his other pant leg and fixed Tony with what he knew was a serious gaze. "Uh, well…they're not anything spectacular, like the others you've seen—just a, um…" He glanced down, toward his lap, and clamped a hand over his right wrist, still hidden beneath his removed shirt.

"What?" Tony chuckled. "Show me."

"Yes, of course," he murmured. He didn't pull his hand from under the shirt. Instead he shoved his hand through the neck hole, exposing just enough of his wrist to reveal a thick-lined, black symbol. "There's not really much else to it. It's a Norse rune. It means peace."

"Cool. Let me see." Tony reached for him, getting a loose grip on Loki's forearm, and pushed at the shirt. Loki tugged, trying to snatch his arm away. "Wait—"

"No. Anthony, don't."

"I just wanna see—let me see…" There was a brief struggle, before Tony ultimately yanked the shirt away. And spotted the three dates inked into Loki's skin beneath the rune. "What the…?"

Once Tony's fingers loosened from around his wrist, Loki pulled his arm back, covering his wrist with his left hand, and holding it to his chest, where his heart is racing.

"What is that?"

"Nothing," Loki muttered. Tentatively, he lifted his eyes to Tony's. Then dropped them again when he held out his hand, palm up.

"Loki."

He was kicking himself for these particular tattoos now. Bucky had warned him. _Get them in a more hidden place_ , he'd said. _Remember, not remind._ But, stubborn as a mule, Loki wanted what he wanted, where he wanted it. And Bucky acquiesced. Breathing fast, squeezing his eyes shut tight, Loki lowered his arm to Tony's hand.

The dates, inked in the simple format of the numbers of the months, days, and years, were upside down, to Tony's view, so he shifted to read them better. His breath released in a quiet gasp that Loki felt fan over his skin, followed by a swipe of his finger. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Tony was pointing at the first date.

"That's the day your mom died." It was a statement, not a question, but Loki still felt compelled to confirm it.

"Yes."

He watched Tony swipe his finger over the third date. "This…" His finger still on Loki's racing pulse, Tony flicked his eyes up. His voice was barely above a whisper, and tight with emotion. It cut deep, right into Loki's soul. "This is the day I came home."

Straining to keep his cool, to control the trembling of his chin, Loki nodded.

"Why?"

He moved his eyes to his wrist, quickly flicking away a tear that rolled down his cheek. "They…" he cursed the cracking of his voice. "Those are three very important dates for me. Something significant, something that changed everything from that day forward, happened on each of those days."

His bottom lip was still quivering as Tony ran his finger over the middle date. "Loki…what…what happened on this day?"

 _Oh, gods_. Loki's left hand curled into the material of his shirt in his lap, and he cleared his throat so he could speak clearly. "It was…the day that Steven Rogers saved my life."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: So many apologies for the lateness of this final update. It has been a crazy few days at home, with my sister visiting and some early birthday activities. But, here it is, all finished. I hope the ending is everything you hoped for. Enjoy it, because I won't be posting anything new for a little bit. I am still working on several works for FrostIron and WinterFrost, but I've fallen a bit behind in school and need to make the time to bring my grade up, since the term will be over in just over a month. But I will be back eventually! Thank you for all the love you've shown for this!**

 **-xoxo**

* * *

Summary: Loki finally explains about what happened the night Steve saved his life. And Tony and Loki come to a conclusion about their future.

* * *

Loki probably had a point; Tony would grant him that. Moving in together really wasn't the best idea, at this point. He couldn't get Loki to admit there was a possibility of them taking a shot at a real relationship, and here he was asking him to park his toothbrush in his bathroom.

Some genius.

But that didn't mean he wasn't more than a little disappointed at Loki turning him down anyway. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, his attention was quickly veered in another direction.

When he'd spotted what turned out to be the tail end of a big ass snake on Loki's hand earlier, admittedly, Tony hadn't expected more than half of Loki's body to be covered in tattoos. Maybe there was truth to the idea that getting tattooed could be addicting. Or maybe Loki was just a really good friend to Bucky and provided an accessible canvas. He remembered the first time he saw Loki completely naked, that night in the dorm. He remembered how surprised he was that, despite Loki being a male—and that he'd been sporting old and new bruises at the time—he had been incredibly aroused by the sight of all that flawless, pale flesh. He found the tattoos were having a similar, if less powerful—at the moment—effect.

If anything, Tony thought Loki's choices were interesting. The detail in what apparently was an ancestral symbol was impressive; he made the assumption the skull masks were related to his job—and wondered if Loki had somehow become an actor. The raven, the phoenix, and flames intrigued him; they were all symbols, representatives of deeper, possibly emotional, meanings.

But the dates… Those gave Tony pause.

 _12-08-03_. Tony remembered the day Loki's mom had succumbed to the cancer that she'd been trying to beat for the previous two years. He would never forget Loki calling him at home that night, crying so hard he could barely speak. That date, he understood.

 _08-18-15._ In the cave, Tony had lost all concept of time. He ate when food was provided; he slept when he was tired enough to, or Yinsen forced him. When he finally got out, and saw the light of day, and was around English-speaking people again, and discovered he'd only been gone for three months, he was surprised. But, then, in those three short months he'd lost an entire lifetime. He was confused as to why that should be an important date for Loki, why it should warrant a permanent reminder where he could see it every day. Tony was starting to think they had both been underestimating their feelings for one another since they'd been apart.

 _10-04-06_. Tony had a feeling he knew why Loki had that particular day on his wrist. And when Loki confirmed it, his stomach plummeted, and he felt nauseous.

His fingers curled around Loki's wrist, covering the dates and the Norse rune, and he gave himself a moment to get his emotions in check. He wanted to scream at Loki. He wanted to demand to know why he got _that date_ inked onto his wrist. Why would he want to be reminded of any of these things? In direct contrast to the turmoil he was feeling inside, Tony calmly slid his hand down, so their hands were palm to palm, his thumb hooked around Loki's.

"Tell me what happened?"

Loki shook his head. "Why?"

"Because I wanna know."

"It's not what you think," he said almost brokenly. His eyes were still lowered; his fingers tightened around Tony's. He started to speak again, but his voice failed him. "I wasn't trying to…it was an accident. But…with everything that had happened…" He pulled his hand from Tony's grasp and pressed both of his hands to his face, swiped at his eyes and sniffled. "People will think what they want. I suppose you will, too."

Tony's hand curled into a fist on his thigh, cold now from the absence of Loki's hand. "Then make me understand."

"I was a wreck after you vanished from campus," Loki started, his voice much stronger now. "I tend to veer toward self-destruction when I'm in that kind of emotional state. Anything to numb the pain. It's likely why I slept with Thor that night back in high school."

Tony couldn't fight the pang of envy, but he managed to keep the dismissive scoff muffled.

"I spent the summer indulging myself. When classes started in the fall, I wasn't quite ready to give it up, and my attendance suffered. I went to more parties than classes. I was constantly _on_ something. There was nothing I wouldn't drink, smoke, swallow, snort." He peeked up at Tony. "Or sleep with."

Tony couldn't hold the gaze and looked away, clenching his jaw. Shock warred with guilt; anger with shame. Tony had no place to judge Loki, _but_ , he justified silently, his drug use had always been social. And he was a scientist; he calculated his intake of anything he took to make sure it wasn't ever too much that he couldn't function the next day. Most of the time.

"Classes had been going for almost six weeks," Loki continued. There was a flatness to his voice now that told Tony he was trying to detach himself from it; as if it never happened. "There was a party at someone's apartment near campus. By the time I had arrived, I was already…I had already been partaking elsewhere."

Tony dropped his head into his hand, suddenly unsure he wanted to hear the story, after all.

"Inevitably, a complaint was made, and the party was moved. They went to that bar…erm, on the corner, with the billiards."

"The Rack," Tony supplied, speaking from behind his hand. He wasn't sure how or why he knew that, but he and Loki shared a mutual amused look that seemed to ease some of the tension in the room.

"Yes, probably that one. Anyway…I didn't follow the group. I don't remember why I stayed behind, but I believe I was wandering around, and somehow, I found myself sitting by the pool in the center of the complex. I had a bottle of something—vodka, I think—drinking myself further into a stupor. At least, I was, until this girl showed up. I can't remember her name. I just remember she had this dark, curly hair, and she wore glasses. And she was very…bubbly."

Tony sorted through his mental files. "Darcy." Loki sat up a little straighter, brows high as he looked at Tony. He rolled his eyes. "Excuse my photographic memory. It's not like I slept with her. She was a friend of a chick in my physics classes. Christ."

Loki slunk down again and murmured, "Right." The tension was back. "Well. She was passing by and saw me and decided it was the perfect time to strike up a conversation. Apparently, she'd had quite a crush on me."

"All the girls had a crush on you, Loki. Even Romanov, from what I remember."

He scoffed. "She'll deny that to her dying day."

"Probably. So what happened?"

Loki's eyes dropped again, his brows furrowed. "I was…unkind to her. She was being very friendly and I was…" He paused, long enough to draw Tony's attention. He looked upset with himself and Tony's heart started to race. _What the hell happened?_ he wanted to ask. "You need to understand that I didn't think I deserved any friendship or kindness from anyone. I thought I would only…fuck it up, eventually. And I'd done a very good job of alienating myself from everyone."

Guilt seeped into every inch of Tony's being, making his stomach twist painfully.

"There was someone—a friend of hers. He heard us from his apartment, and stepped out on his balcony. In my drunkenness, I had begun to berate the poor girl. So he was shouting at me for shouting at her. I grew frustrated and and annoyed, and I slammed the bottle onto to the table, cut a deep gash in my hand."

Tony caught him rubbing his fingers at the spot. It seemed to be covered now by that serpent's tail. He looked at Loki's face again, saw his gaze fixed straight ahead, but looking at nothing at all. His face was so blank, Tony could only stare in shock.

"I didn't feel any pain. I'd had too much to drink. But I was…crying. My vision was blurry. And I couldn't walk straight. And when she…tried to help me, I pushed her away and…and I tripped."

Tony gasped. Tears sprung into his eyes, even as Loki shook himself out of his trance.

"I don't remember much of what happened after that. I found out later, when I woke up in the hospital, that I had hit my head against the edge of the pool before I fell in. Uh…Darcy couldn't swim; her friend had called for help. But I got lucky. Our good Captain happened to be passing by."

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. "Steve?"

"Mm," Loki nodded, a small lift to his lips. "He was on his way to see James. He lived in that complex. He heard Darcy's scream and acted quickly. I'd lost a lot of blood by that point. Half a second longer and I would have been—uh…ahem."

A rush of emotion hit Tony, and he had to hold back a sob.

"Well, they wouldn't have been able to revive me. As it was, my stomach had to be pumped. On the bright side…" he turned his head to look at Tony, shrugged and gave him a small, sad smile. His eyes began to fill, and Tony didn't know if it was from the emotion of telling the story or if it was a reaction to the tears in his eyes. "I've not had a drop of alcohol since that night."

Struggling to control his voice and his breath, Tony asked in a strained voice, "You cleaned up?"

He looked away. "In a manner of speaking. I didn't have much of a choice. I was ordered by the court, and my father, to check in to a rehabilitation center and complete a program. Despite Darcy's report, the authorities felt I was trying to harm myself. It was…the first of several trips to such a facility."

Tony was ready to burst. His chest burned with the tears he was fighting back. Fisting his hands in the duvet, he jumped up, pacing away from Loki toward the door.

"Anthony…?"

He couldn't get a word out. All the feelings of anger and shame and guilt were surrounding him, piling into him, weighing him down. Crushing him. All he could think of was that he had almost lost him; Tony had almost lost Loki. Forever. And he never would have known.

"Anthony. Talk to me."

Everything hurt. His head, his heart. Oh, God, his heart. His fingers curled first into his t-shirt, willing the ache in his chest to go away. Then he dragged his hands up his face, his short, trimmed nails leaving red streaks across his cheeks, until he could fist his hands in his hair, tugging, hard, adding more to his pain.

A gut-wrenching cry escaped him, finally, and he slammed a fist to Loki's bedroom door. A hand landed softly on his shoulder, and Tony jolted around. He fell back against the door, knowing Loki was there in front of him. But now…now he would have to live with the knowledge that Loki nearly died. Because of him.

"It's all my fault."

* * *

Loki hadn't spoken of that night in years. He had stopped, eventually, analyzing his actions, scrutinizing over every word he had uttered, every move he had made after he left his last, and most successful attempt, at sobriety. At one point, he questioned even himself whether he really had tried to kill himself. There were minute details that escaped him now, such as Darcy's name and what he'd been drinking, but everything after…well, Laufey would never let him forget it, for as long as the bastard lived. Which was part of the reason Loki rarely saw him these days.

He must have explained it wrong. He must have done _something_ wrong; Tony looked ready to explode. He counted the seconds down to the inevitable explosion, ready to hear the words he'd heard most after it all happened: "what the hell were thinking?" Or "how stupid could you be?"

What he did not expect was for Tony to completely _im_ plode.

"Anthony?" Why wasn't he saying anything? Why wouldn't he look at him? Rising from the bed, Loki moved toward him, slowly, hoping he wasn't planning on leaving now. Not like this. "Anthony. Talk to me." He started forward again, only to jerk to a halt at the excruciating wail Tony released. The sound ripped right through Loki; a hand clutched into his shirt at his belly as he tentatively reached out with the other for Tony.

"It's all my fault."

Guilt swamped Loki, his jaw clenching against it. " _No_. It is not." His eyes wandered over Tony's face, marked with red streaks that looked painful.

"Yes, it is," Tony insisted through a tearful chuckle. "If I hadn't left…if I'd at least gone to see you, to-to say goodbye…"

Loki started to reach for him again. "Anthony—"

"If I wasn't such a chicken shit!" He shouted the words, slapping his hands to his face. And kept on hitting himself.

Loki stared in shock. "Stop." He grabbed for Tony's hands, pulling them from the genius' face even as he fought him. "Stop! Stop it! Anthony." Loki used all his strength to keep Tony's hands down at his sides. "Stop," he ordered softly, but firmly.

Tony finally settled against the door, pouting at Loki, his cheeks now stained with tears. Loki sighed, frowning in concern, and brushed at the drying tracks with his thumbs, then cupped Tony's face, forcing those brown eyes to focus on him.

"Listen to me. Yes. You broke me. In every way a person could hurt someone they loved. You broke my heart, my trust, my soul, even. I cannot deny that." Tony's eyes filled. "No, don't," he murmured, narrowing the distance between their bodies. "Anthony, you need to realize something. You didn't put those bottles in my hands. You didn't put those pills in my mouth. You didn't put those drugs in front of me."

Loki released Tony and brushed his fingers across his cheek, caressing him almost lovingly.

"You cannot blame yourself for my choices, darling. I am responsible for my own actions."

Tony reached up for Loki's hand before he could pull it away. "You sure? 'Cause I still _feel_ responsible."

Loki chuckled softly. "I know you do. But you don't have to. I am absolutely sure-this is all on me. But, you know, you don't need to break down my bedroom door to show how apologetic you are."

"Shut up," Tony muttered, through a smile, before giving Loki's shirt a sharp tug, bringing his mouth down to his. Loki laughed against his lips, and before Tony could get in a proper kiss, the door they were leaning on shook as a fist banged hard against it.

" _Hey!_ " Bucky shouted belligerently through the door. " _Keep it down, wouldja? Some of us'r tryin' to fuck out here."_

Tony and Loki exchanged a look, stifling laughs. He tugged Tony away from the door and pulled it open to find Steve trying to urge Bucky away and down the hall.

"Get away from—" Steve straightened and offered a smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Loki assured him with a grin.

Steve struggled to keep a swaying Bucky upright, who was now aiming a judging finger at Loki. "There's nothin' funny goin' on 'n there, 's there?"

"James Buchanan Barnes. That is none of your business." Steve pleaded with his eyes for Loki's patience. Crossing his arms, leaning casually against the door jamb, Loki decided to humor Bucky and play along.

"I don't know what you mean, old friend. What could possibly be going on in here that would be considered funny?"

"Loki," Steve scolded him lightly. "Don't encourage him. Come on, say good night, babe."

"G'night, babe!" Bucky shouted before collapsing into giggles against Steve's chest.

"Oh, my god," Steve muttered. "Good night, Loki." His lips curved to the side even as he nudged Bucky down the hall. "'Night, Tony."

"'Night, Rogers," he muttered from behind Loki, behind the door. When Loki glanced back, Tony was smirking.

"But, wait! I was talkin' to Loki," Bucky slurred resisting Steve's attempt to push him back into his own bedroom.

"No, you were bothering Loki. Get it straight. Time to leave them alone, you jerk."

"Make me, _punk_."

The pair disappeared into Bucky's room, with Bucky noticeably getting handsy with the blond. Thoroughly amused, Loki stepped back into his own room. Tony snickered and inhaled deeply, calmer now from all the crying. Loki released a soft _ehehe._

"James—he's a bit of an over-friendly drunk."

Tony rubbed a finger over his eye, frowning at Loki through the open one. "It doesn't bother you? Him bringing liquor around."

Loki gave a shrug, shaking his head, and moved around Tony, back toward his bed. "We don't keep any alcohol in the apartment. And he rarely drinks to that point. I was never much of a drinker, Anthony. It was the easiest road to self-destruction I could get my hands on. That's all."

He kept his eyes down, hoping Tony wouldn't ask just how he got access to those other roads. Instead, Tony breathed in shakily, and tentatively, moved closer to the foot of the bed. "Loki…"

Loki noticed his hesitation, acknowledged his own, and looked up, raising a brow. "…Yes?" His hands were moving nervously again, Loki saw; his fingers twitching at his aides as if he was counting down the seconds.

"What do we…where do we go from here?"

Loki thought for a moment. "Where do you want to go, Anthony?"

The genius inched closer, moving his hands behind his back. His nervousness was beginning to make Loki anxious—or _more_ anxious, rather. Unconsciously, his own hands came together in his lap, the fingers of his right hand scratching idly at his left. "I dunno," Tony mumbled. "Maybe I wanna know what you think first…"

Loki looked away, blindly studying the leafy design imprinted in his duvet. "I feel as if you've been resurrected from the dead, to be honest. I'm not sure where the jumping off point is from there."

Tony lowered to the bed, still refraining from any attempt to move close or touch Loki. What did he think Loki would do? "Um. How 'bout if we start with…a date?"

Viridian flicking up, fingers still scratching, Loki's lips curved up in a soft smirk. "A date? How junior high of you."

Tony nearly snorted, a quasi-chuckle coming out instead, and he reached over to lay his hand over Loki's moving fingers, pausing the action. "Don't be so flippant. I know this is something you always wanted."

Loki's chin lifted defiantly. "Not _always_."

Tony only tilted his head to the side. "Just say yes or no."

The word was there, on the tip of his tongue. Still, he was nervous to say it. It would be a step in a _definite_ direction. It would be an admission of sorts, an acknowledgment that he was indeed open to a relationship with Tony. Frightening, really. "Are you inferring then that you'll be staying on the west coast?" Deflection was always easy.

He looked down as Tony released his hand and sighed loudly, impatiently. "Are you gonna keep stalling?"

"I am not stalling." But he did look away again. "I'm simply curious. I mean, really, tell me why I would say yes if you are only going to jet off to New York in a day or two? Or a month." He had more to say, to keep from answering the question, but whatever was on the tip of his tongue slipped away when Tony leaned in and pressed a short and sweet kiss to his lips. He stared at Tony with wide eyes, surprised, but his lips slowly started to curve.

Tony's lips curved in that boyish little grin that used to make Loki's insides twirl around. Apparently, it still had that effect. "Just answer the question, Laufeyson."

He smiled, softly, at Tony, his eyes roaming over that handsome face. "I will forget you called me that and say…yes."

Tony nodded, imperceptibly, while leaning close again. Loki watched him, eyelids lowering, humming a little as their lips came together. Tony kissed him a little longer, a little harder, and Loki was happy to let him. When Tony slid closer, and started to ease Loki down to the bed, he didn't fight or resist.

Why deny what he'd known he wanted all along?

Again, Tony didn't completely lay on him; but draped half over Loki now, he gently teased Loki's lips apart and deepened the kiss. For a moment, Loki let the strong grip on his self-control go; he relaxed against the warmth of Tony's body, shifting, rising up to mold himself against the genius' firm, compact form. He felt different, to Loki. There was more muscle pressed into him; surer hands held onto him, familiarizing themselves to the angles and contours of Loki's body. It was exciting and heady, and made his mind swim with ideas of what could happen between them.

The kisses were growing more passionate, more heated; hands were dipping into more daring places, grabbing possessively. Needing to breathe, Loki gently pushed his hands to Tony's chest and turned his mouth away

"Sorry," Tony panted.

He chuckled, running his hands up to Tony's shoulders. "Don't be." He looked up at this man that he had loved for most of his life, looking down at him, his brown eyes reflecting that feeling of love, and felt impossibly happy for once in his life. "Will you stay?" he asked quietly.

Tony nodded, brushed strands of Loki's hair back from his face. "For awhile. I'll have to head back to New York, eventually, to get my stuff sorted and packed and shipped out here."

Loki's lips twitched. "No…" Tony angled his head. "Will you stay… _here_ …tonight?"

Tony didn't move at all for a moment, not even to blink. Then he smirked. "You want me so bad."

A groan rumbled in Loki's chest, his eyes rolling as he thumped a fist into Tony's chest. He laughed at Loki's weak attempt to hurt him. "As if you're not chomping at the bit for me."

Tony grabbed his wrist, pulling it up to his mouth to give it a playful nip. "Maybe." He laughed again at Loki's nonplussed reaction, and buried his face against Loki's neck. "I'll stay. If you really want me to. I have nowhere else to go."

"Oh no?" Because Tony couldn't see his face, Loki didn't hide his surprised and aroused expressions as he pecked and nipped at the skin of his throat. "You've a mansion in Malibu, remember?"

"Yeah," he breathed against Loki's ear. "Haven't seen it yet, _remember_? Besides…" Tony rolled Loki to his back, laying his weight on him, so he couldn't squirm or get away, and palmed Loki's thigh. "How else am I going to get to see this wolf you got on your thigh?" He bent his head for another kiss, jerking back as a long, pale finger pressed against his lips. "Mm. What?"

"I've a…teeny, tiny, wee request."

"Okay…" he mumbled behind Loki's finger.

Loki dropped his finger, flexed his jaw. "This may sound odd, considering, but…"

"But…?"

Loki set his eyes on Tony's. "No sex." He waited, but Tony's only reaction was to stare, so he tried to explain. "Just for…just not tonight, not yet. Let's be honest, I barely made it to sixteen before I gave in to Thor, who'd been trying for weeks to get into my pants. I doubt I'll be able to hold out for very long. And I know _you_ won't."

Finally reacting, Tony scoffed, affronted. "You do realize you're halfway there right now, don't you?" He pointedly glanced down toward Loki's crotch.

Loki chuckled. "Regardless. I don't want this to be about just getting each other off, Anthony. We've been there; we've done that. I'm taking a risk here. We _both_ are. Does this make any sense?"

Settling so he was straddling one of Loki's legs, Tony breathed in deep and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. And I get it. I want it to be more than that, too. Surprisingly," he added with a grin, receiving one in response from Loki. "So, I guess I'll…do my best."

Loki snickered and looped his arms around Tony's neck. "Should I sleep fully clothed?"

A brow lifted over a laughing a brown eye. "You think that's gonna stop either of us? Do you even remember that night I woke up from a dead sleep with you grinding on top of me?"

Loki laughed, hard, enough to shake the bed. "In my defense, I was unaware I was doing that. Technically, I was sleepwalking."

"You were sleep- _fucking_." He settled more on top of Loki, nipping at his chin, the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure about this?"

His fingers were in Tony's hair, encouraging him, and marveling at the softness of it. His lips curved in a lazy, pleased smile. "Which part?"

"All of it," Tony mumbled against his skin. "Letting me back in. Letting me stay." He raised his head, and curled his lip in mock disgust. "No sex? Really?"

Loki breathed a soft chuckle. "Do you want the truth?"

"Shit. Do I?"

Nodding, Loki gave Tony's chest a pat, signaling that he needed to sit up. Tony moved off of him, and Loki pulled himself up to a sitting position, thoughtfully swiping a hand over his mouth and chin once he had. "The thing is…I am about eighty-five percent sure that I will get a talking to from someone or another, questioning my sanity, about this."

"By someone or another you mean Bucky and Romanov."

A soft, affectionate smile. "I am also one hundred percent sure that I don't give a damn what they think." Tony barked out a laugh, but he quieted when Loki laid a hand over his on the bed. "This is _my_ life, Anthony. And I happen to believe that you just might be worth the risk."

Tony gave his fingers a squeeze. "I hope I am. At least, I want to be. I don't want to miss out on another ten years of having you in my life, Loki. I know it might be weird at first, but…we are different people now. So…maybe it won't be too bad."

Surprising even himself, Loki, pushed up to his knees, and casually crawled into Tony's lap, as if it was something he did all the time. Straddling the genius now, he let his hands come to rest at Tony's shoulders, encircling his neck. "It's a fresh start, darling. For us both. A new chapter in the book of our lives."

Tony tilted his head back to look up at him, his arms sliding around his slim waist. "A blank page?"

Loki nodded, and lowered his mouth to Tony's. He kissed him softly, a hint of hesitation remaining, but once Tony's arms tightened around him, and his hands were gliding up his back and pushing him closer by the shoulder blades, Loki relaxed. And increased the pressure to Tony's mouth. He grinned, lifting his mouth slowly, after Tony emitted a soft groan.

"You're sure about that sex part, huh?"

"For now," Loki affirmed with a nod and a laugh. "Perhaps we should sleep fully clothed, after all. On top of the covers. Just for tonight."

Tony groaned again, in a rather un-sexy manner this time, and Loki climbed off of him. Alone, and lap empty now, Tony fell face first to the bed. "You're killing me, Loki," he yelled into the duvet.

"It might serve you well to learn the art of delayed gratification, Anthony." He turned the light off, casting the room into semi-darkness.

"Rude." Tony's disembodied voice was much clearer now, telling Loki he'd at least lifted his head. He laughed at Tony's response, and crossed back over to the bed, searching for, and quickly locating, a cord hidden behind the bed. Flicking the switch with his thumb, a string of white lights flickered on. Strung high above his bed, they gave his room a soft, dim illumination. "Oh…nice," Tony murmured, pushing up to rest on his elbow. He turned his eyes, dark and piercing, up to Loki, and it made his stomach do a nervous flip.

Battling those pesky little nerves, Loki stepped out of his shoes, and stretched out on the bed, on his side. Tony reached out to touch the back of his finger to his cheek. "Lay down," he croaked out, patting a hand to the spot beside him.

Tony kicked off his own tennis shoes, and shifted around until he could finally settle beside Loki. They laid there, on top of the duvet, facing each other for several silent moments. Tony reached over to tug Loki's hand from under his pillow and curled his fingers around his, and Loki's deep, scratchy voice broke into the quiet.

"In case I hadn't said so, or it wasn't clear…I am happy to see you."

Tony grinned lopsidedly. "Nice to be seen," he murmured back, making Loki chuckle.

They talked, at length, of everything and anything, until eventually, the sky began to lighten. Loki spoke of his sobriety, of his few relapses, and of his daily struggle to keep clean. Tony confessed that he initially thought the abduction was a friendly prank by his friend Rhodey; and how he contemplated suicide a number of times in the cave, and since his return. And that the post-traumatic stress was doing a number on him.

Tony asked about Bucky's stint in the Army and why he left, and what Loki's plans were, after Bucky inevitably moved out to start his life with Steve. Loki wasn't too forthcoming, nor was he willing to set anything in stone, for now.

They laughed together, shushed each other, so as not to wake Steve and Bucky, and even shed more than a few tears. Slowly, they gravitated closer and closer, and eased into affectionate touches to the face, the chest, hands…everywhere-above the waist. Tony toyed with the ends of Loki's hair; Loki rubbed is fingers against Tony's bearded chin.

By the time Loki heard the birds outside his window beginning to chirp, and the quiet movements of eternally early riser Steve, he watched as Tony's eyes grew heavier and heavier, and eventually, closed. Leaning in closer, Loki brushed his nose against Tony's, grinning softly when the genius instinctively lifted his mouth for a kiss. Loki obliged, pressing his lips lightly to Tony's until he was sure he had fallen asleep.

Imagining this must have been the first restful sleep Tony had had in some time, it gave Loki comfort to watch him sleeping so peacefully. And when Tony shifted, pulling him closer, and burrowing into him, Loki didn't shake him off. He didn't even feel a sense of discomfort.

Content for the first time in ten long years, Loki curled himself around Tony, and slipped into a deep sleep himself.

* * *

A decade apart, and an exhausting night, did nothing to quell their basic need and attraction for each other. At some point during the early morning, mouths were sought, clothes were lost, and bodies moved, glided together, in tandem. And when they woke in the late afternoon light, a tangle of limbs and sheets, the scent of sex lingering in the air, there were no regrets to be had.


End file.
